


Time is Fleeting

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Amnesia, Amnesiac Louis, Comfort/Angst, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retrograde amnesia fic in which Louis couldn’t be happier with his new and improved life. That is, of course, until he finds out just how pathetic his flirting skills still were.</p><p>Or, the one where Louis bought an appalling number of History books to impress a boy, Harry is a loveable doofus on a mission to help him create great new memories, and head injuries are both a nightmare and a chance to undo wrongs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time is Fleeting

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [1D_Hiatus_Prompt_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1D_Hiatus_Prompt_Meme) collection. 



Louis feels likes he’s being held underwater, his head heavy and dizzy.

 

There’s a beeping sound echoing distortedly in his ears and driving him absolutely insane, so he makes a weak attempt at trying to force his eyes open to identify its source.

 

His eyelids are glued shut though; therefore the reason behind the annoying sound remains unknown.

 

Trying to properly move seems like an impossible task right now, so Louis settles for pressing his fingers weakly against the warm hand holding his.

 

That movement, despite being incredibly subtle, causes a loud gasp to be heard, followed by a sob.

 

“Louis, honey? Can you hear me?”

 

He tries to fight against the haziness in his brain in order to answer his mom’s question, he really does, but all he manages to do is open his eyes slowly to take in his surroundings.

 

Louis struggles to focus on the environment around him, as his mom’s tear-stained cheeks dominate his field of vision, but he can still acknowledge the unfamiliarity of the room he’s in.

 

Jay’s apparently so tired that she looks older somehow, her features a little less lively and more worn out.

 

Even in his barely conscious state, Louis can gather that something’s wrong, the pungent smell of disinfectant and the loud beeping making it obvious that he has ended up in the hospital somehow.

 

He tries to speak, desperate to understand how he’s gone from staring at his Justin Timberlake posters just before falling asleep to lying in a hospital bed with a sobbing Jay holding his hand, but the dryness in his throat doesn’t allow him to get a single word out.

 

Louis’ head seems to be spinning faster and faster as he grows more and more confused, his failed attempts at communicating making him even more anxious and culminating in a forceful round of dry-heaving.

 

Jay starts petting his back instantly, begging him to calm down in a soft, but desperate tone.

 

Louis loses consciousness so fast that her pleas go unheard, though.

 

*

 

The second time Louis wakes up, he feels much calmer, probably due to the ridiculous amount of tranquilizers and other medication that he’s been pumped with.

 

The overwhelming dizziness hasn’t been the slightest bit reduced though, and neither has his confusion.

 

“Here, honey, have some water to soothe your poor little throat.” Jay says, pushing a ridiculously bright pink straw in between Louis’ chapped lips, “Slowly, Boo, I don’t want you to choke or anything, you’ve scared me enough as it is.”

 

The tepid water pushes against the walls of his sore throat painfully, but soothingly nonetheless, and Louis is beginning to feel slightly less like actual death.

 

When he finally feels like he might actually be able to talk without coughing out a lung, his first enquiry is obviously how he ended up in the hospital.

 

“That ridiculous bucket list you and Liam created backfired, of course. Silly boys! I’m not mad though, don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re alright now.”

 

_Liam? Who’s Liam?_

 

Louis is a huge theater geek and, like a proper loser, he only has two friends – Zayn and Hannah.

 

He doesn’t even know a Liam, let alone have a bucket list with him!

 

He doesn’t have enough time to question his mom’s senseless explanation though, as a spiritless-looking doctor walks into the room without even knocking. Rude.

 

“Mr. Tomlinson, I’m Dr. Hart and I’ll be assessing your brain function.”

 

Dr. Hart seems bored to tears, not even bothering to look up from Louis’ medical chart as he introduces himself.

 

His deep, monotonous tone reminds Louis of his History teacher, so he appropriately dubs him Dr. Snooze in his head.

 

“Please classify your pain level from one to ten, one being no pain whatsoever and ten being unbearable pain.”

 

There’s a throbbing in Louis’ right leg and his head feels like it’s going to blow up, but he doesn’t feel like he’s dying anymore, so he figures he’s about midway between the two poles.

 

“I’d say I’m at 5 or 6, I guess.”

 

It’s the second time Louis has spoken since he woke up, and, once again, he can hardly recognize his own voice.

 

It’s significantly deeper than usual, but he attributes the change to the accident and the medical procedures he’s been subjected to.

 

“Okay, I’m going to ask you a series of questions to check your brain function. It’s standard procedure in head injuries, don’t worry.” Dr. Snooze says, reassuring his once again teary-eyed mother.

 

“What’s your name?’”

 

“Louis William Tomlinson.”

 

“Which country are we in?”

 

“USA.” Louis answers, scoffing at the silliness of these questions. He vaguely wonders if the next question will be whether or not he thinks Santa is real.

 

“Could you tell me today’s date, please?”

 

This particular question proves to be a bit more of a challenge actually, as Louis is not sure how long he’s been in the hospital.

 

“Wednesday? Thursday? I’m not sure. I don’t even remember the accident, but my last memory is going to bed on Monday night.”

 

“Could you tell me the full date instead?”

 

Dr. Snooze is looking unapologetically inconvenienced by Louis’ confusion now, as if the fact that the teenager has sustained a concussion is a personal offense to him.

 

“Well, Monday was May 26th, so today should be, like, the 27th? 28th?”

 

Dr. Snooze is certainly not looking as bored anymore, and the change in demeanor is freaking Louis out, so he unsurely adds “30th?”

 

When Louis turns to his mother for confirmation, he instantly wishes he hadn’t.

 

Jay is looking back at him like she can hardly process his answer, the blood completely drained from her beautiful face.

 

Louis can both feel and hear his heart rate suddenly accelerate, a state of panic setting in as he realizes that there’s something wrong with his answer.

 

“Louis, what year are we in?”

 

“2008.”

 

There are silent tears running down Jay’s pale cheeks now, but her gaze is fixed on the doctor’s face, as if she thinks that he can instantly heal her eldest son.

 

“How old are you, Louis?”

 

“Sixteen?”

 

The unsure tone in his voice sounds ridiculous even to his own ears, but the general stunned reactions to his previous answers are making him question everything he’s deemed as certain.

 

There’s a long pause after his answer, before his mom starts sobbing again and Dr. Snooze moves into proactive mode.

 

*

 

The rest of the day passes by in a jumble of medical tests and half-assed explanations, terms like “amnesia” and “brain damage” being thrown around as if this is a day-to-day occurrence for everyone except Louis.

 

It isn’t until the next day, when the possibility of attributing his confusion to the medication is thrown out of the window, that Louis is given a real diagnosis.

 

Twenty-one-year-old Louis William Tomlinson of Seattle, Washington sustained a concussion due to a bungee-jumping accident, resulting in retrograde amnesia.

 

Or, in laymen’s terms, Louis has lost five years worth of memories, which he might not recover. Ever.

 

Dr. Snooze hadn’t wanted to _“overwhelm Louis’ brain”_ today, which is basically a fancy way of saying that _you’re already a little cuckoo, and I’d rather keep you from becoming completely batshit crazy_ , so he knows virtually nothing about his current life, and he’s insanely curious.

 

He makes a list of facts that he knows about his new life right after his mom leaves, and he’s hoping to add a lot more information to it tomorrow.

 

It goes a little like this:

 

Shit I know

  * 21 years old
  * Friend named Liam
  * Bucket list
  * Older Louis has the balls to go bungee-jumping???!!!
  * I look hot as fuck!!!!!!



 

The last piece of information hasn’t actually been confirmed, as Louis has yet to actually see himself in the mirror, but there are several tattoos littering his arms and torso, and he may or may not have squealed when he felt the rough beard he’s currently sporting.

 

There’s no way a bearded, tattooed twenty-one-year-old man can be unattractive, right?

 

*

 

Jay shows up at the hospital as soon as visitation hours begin the next morning, reminding Louis of what a selfless human being she is.

 

“Louis, honey, do you think you could handle it if Zayn came for the afternoon visit today? The poor boy has been calling me every five minutes, and I just don’t have the heart to keep telling him that he can’t see you.”

 

Louis is nodding enthusiastically before his mom has even finished talking.

 

Zayn is the ideal person to fill him in on everything he’s been doing the last five years of his life.

 

There’s only so much your mom truly knows about your life, but your best friend is bound to be keeping all the raunchiest, coolest memories, and Louis is dying to hear them.

 

Plus, truthfully, being stuck in a hospital room thinking about how nutty he has become is actually driving him insane, so he’s definitely excited about having some distraction from his own thoughts.

 

Louis and Zayn met during their freshmen year of high school, and they became friends after Louis caught the other boy inconspicuously reading a Batman comic book during English class by hiding it inside his school assigned _To Kill a Mockingbird_ copy.

 

Louis is really fucking glad that they’re still best friends, as he doesn’t know if could have lived with any other scenario.

 

Zayn has always been like a brother to him, and he’s incredibly grateful and proud of his older self for keeping the other boy in his life after high school.

 

*

 

Lunch consists of an unidentified meat of some sort, mashed peas, and pure anxiety.

 

Louis is only now fully realizing that there’s a real possibility that he might actually not like the person he has become, and that thought is still terrorizing him when the sound of knocking echoes around the sterilized walls.

 

Louis’ visitor doesn’t look like a complete stranger, but he isn’t as familiar as he had expected.

 

The amnesiac had thought, for whatever reason, that his best friend would still look pretty much the same as he had when he was sixteen, but the boy, no, _man_ , behind that door is above and beyond that dorky teenager that he remembers.

 

Gone are the black-framed glasses, messy hair, and Marvel t-shirts.

 

The “new” Zayn has longer hair, styled to perfection, and a beard shaping his chiseled cheeks.

 

He’s wearing an incredibly cool-looking black leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath, accentuating his slim figure. His black jeans are ripped at the knees, and so tight Louis vaguely wonders if he’s had his balls chopped off to fit into them or something. The entire outfit culminates in a pair of expensive-looking combat boots, emphasizing the dark and mysterious bad-boy aura surrounding his best friend.

 

“Holy shit, you got hot!” Louis exclaims way too loudly, a completely unfiltered reaction to the man standing in front of him.

 

The dorky smile that his brusque appraising earns, however, is very reminiscent of the younger boy Louis remembers.

 

“Wow, sixteen-year-old you is even more of an asshole than I remembered.” Zayn says dryly, though his smile-crinkled eyes contradict his tone.

 

“I don’t think that’s how you should be treating your barely-alive best friend, Zaynie-poo.”

 

Zayn barely even bats an eye at Louis’ dramatics, and the amnesiac is actually rejoicing in the fact that their relationship is still so alike the one he remembers, filled with banter and poorly thought out insults.

 

It’s not unusual for high school friends to grow apart, and Louis is so, so glad that that’s not their case.

 

“Tell me about myself, Zayn. What am I studying? Oh, _where_ am I studying? What do I like? What music do I listen to? Where do I buy all my clothes? Oh, when did I lose my virginity? Do I have a boyfriend? Who am I kidding? I mean, look at me! I must have a hot, muscular, tattooed boyfriend, of course!”

 

“Slow down, Louis. Jesus, you haven’t talked this fast since your sailor phase. That’s what we call your high school style, by the way.”

 

Louis looks like he’s about to defend his previous (current?) clothing choices, so Zayn just keeps talking, “It’s weird, how do you describe a person’s entire life to them?”

 

Zayn ponders for a few seconds, before deciding to just answer Louis’ questions.

 

“We’re both studying at Seattle University ‘cause we wanted to stay in Seattle, but we moved out of our family homes at the beginning of freshman year. Freedom, and college spirit, and all that… I’m majoring in Art and Art History, which you always kindly describe as the most pretentious major in the history of mankind, and you’re studying Performing Arts. You had a hard time choosing between Education, English, and Theatre, but eventually decided that you wanted to be a drama teacher after the twins asked you to help out with their school’s winter play. Your professors love you for whatever reason, even though you have a tendency to smoke weed right before the lectures.”

 

“You like to skateboard and kick the ball around, oh, and, obviously, you love being in the SU plays. You’ve played a bunch of major roles over the years, and were over the moon when you got to play Dr. Frank-N-Furter last summer.”

 

“You like to say that you listen to classic rock and indie music, but your playlists have a lot more Katy Perry than the Rolling Stones. Your style is completely different now, but I guess it’ll be easier for you to just see it when you get out of here than for me to try to describe it.”

 

“I don’t know what else to say, Lou. You’re pretty great. You were fierce and loyal at sixteen, and you’re still just as fierce and loyal now, maybe even more so. You’re much more confident and comfortable with who you are now though, which is pretty damn amazing.”

 

Louis would never actually admit it, but hearing Zayn’s description has made him even more proud of his past (future?) self than the tattoos and beard did.

 

“You lost your virginity during our second week of college with some guy you met a party. Don’t ask me what his name was, ‘cause I can’t remember it. You probably couldn’t remember it yourself, even before the brain damage.” Zayn says, snorting unattractively, unaware of the effect that his words are having on his best friend.

 

You see, it might seem silly, but Louis had always imagined that he would lose his virginity with someone he loved.

 

He wanted it all: candles, flower petals on the bed, whispered love declarations, and, above all, being cuddled afterwards.

 

He can’t even begin to imagine a universe in which he would have given all that up and settled for a random hook-up at a party.

 

How can someone who is supposed to be him have such a different view on love and relationships?

 

“Do I still do that? Do I still, you know, sleep with, like, random people?” Louis asks, scared as to what the answer might be.

 

It’s not like him to be judgmental, and he knows that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with exploring your sexuality with multiple partners, but he’s a bit of a romantic, and he just can’t imagine how he could ever enjoy the fuck-and-chuck lifestyle.

 

Zayn seems to sense his friend’s distress, as he drops the mocking tone and adopts his “serious” posture.

 

“No, you’re not that kind of guy anymore. When we got to college, we were both a bit too overwhelmed and fascinated with our newfound freedom and all the male attention we were getting. I mean, nobody had even looked our way when we were in high school, and all of the sudden we were getting hit on at every party by an insane amount of people. So yeah, we both partied a bit too hard and did a few things we regretted during those first few months, but then I settled down because of Liam. I started going out with you less often, and you complained for ages that I’d gotten boring, but I think that you were actually glad, deep down. You’ve always been a bit of a romantic, Tomlinson, and I think that you just needed a small incentive to get back on track. You actually ended up dating Greg right after that, and then Andrew during sophomore year.”

 

“Why did those guys break up with me, then?” Louis asks, his teenage insecurity and self-doubt shining through.

 

His head is still stuck in a period of his life when he believed nobody could ever find him attractive, so he wants to know what he did wrong to make those guys stop liking him.

 

“They didn’t. You broke up with them, actually. Don’t get me wrong, you liked them both a lot, especially Greg, but you kept waiting to fall in love, and it just never happened. When I asked you why you broke up with Andrew, you told me that you just couldn’t see him as the man in your imaginary family portrait, whatever the hell that means.”

 

Louis knows exactly what that means, actually.

 

You know those lovely family pictures everybody has above the fireplace? Well, whenever Louis is bored, he likes to imagine his own portrait, fantasizing about what he would look like standing next to his handsome husband, with their three children showing off their toothless grins, and a labradoodle laying on the ground, begging to be petted.

 

“Wait, what do you mean you settled down because of Liam? Who’s Liam?” Louis asks, suddenly remembering his friend’s recounting and the weird bucket list explanation his mother had given him.

 

“Liam is actually _my_ hot, muscular, tattooed boyfriend.” Zayn answers with a chuckle, trying to hide his quickly warming cheeks, always a given whenever he talks about his boyfriend.

 

“Are you actually blushing over a boy right now, Zee? Wow, you have become so uncool over the past five years.” Louis says, making no effort whatsoever at masking the mocking tone in his voice, “Well, tell me about him, then. I want to know everything about the boy who makes you act this pathetic.”

 

“Oh please, you haven’t seen pathetic yet. Just wait until you see your bedroom.”

 

There’s a knowing glint in Zayn’s eyes, like he’s concealing the single most interesting piece of information in the history of mankind.

 

“Anyway, Liam was actually your assigned roommate during our freshmen year, so, technically, you’re the one who brought us together.”

 

“Ohhhhh, Zaynie, are we the three best friends that anybody could have?”

 

Opportunities to mock Zayn are few and far in between, so Louis really likes to take advantage of them. He’s dead set on exploiting this particular soft spot till exhaustion.

 

“You and Li were the opposite of best friends when you first met, actually. He used to think that you didn’t take anything seriously enough, and you thought that he took everything too seriously, so I had to listen to you complain all day, every day, for _ages_. For the longest time, I thought that you were honest to God going to suffocate him to death with a pillow in the middle of the night.”

 

Zayn carries on reminiscing, ignoring the “kinky” that comes from Louis’ direction, “One day, you got to your room and found him bawling his eyes out because he missed his family, and, as we both know, family is your soft spot as well, so you ended up spending the rest of the week trying to cheer him up and make him feel less lonely. It only took a week for you two idiots to go from mortal enemies to the best of friends. Li and I had never actually talked before that ‘cause you two didn’t get along, but when we finally started interacting, we were so gone for each other, it’s not even funny. He wanted to come visit you with me today actually, but your mom was pretty adamant we didn’t overwhelm you.”

 

“Yeah, well, my mom’s wrong. Dr. Snooze says that going back to my _usual life before the accident_ might help me remember everything I’ve forgotten.” Louis explains, mocking his physician’s monotone voice.

 

“Oh, does that mean that you’re coming back to our apartment once you leave the hospital?”

 

“ _Our_ apartment? Didn’t you just say that I live at the dorms?”

 

The novelty of having a brand new, much cooler life is quickly wearing off as Louis discovers just how clueless he is when it comes to who he is and what his own fucking life is like.

 

“You, Liam, and I actually rented an apartment off-campus last year. We were all sick and tired of waking up to the lovely sound of people puking in the halls, and I didn’t really like my roommate much, so we decided to get our own place. You’ll love it, Louis. It’s small, but it’s lovely. It really does feel like home to all of us.”

 

Zayn’s voice softens by the second as he describes their apartment, and Louis has no doubt that he will love their home too.

 

“I put up with your and your boyfriend’s mushiness every single day? Wow, I’m such a great friend. You should make me breakfast in bed all the time – I’ve certainly earned it.”

 

Truthfully, Louis is a bit jealous that Zayn is so in love with this Liam guy, whilst all he has to show for himself is what seems like a long string of one-night-stands and two failed relationships, apparently.

 

“Oh shut up, Liam and I have it so much worse. We have to listen to you ramble on and on about Harry every time we’re around you, so stop complaining.” Zayn argues, so enraptured in their banter that he completely forgets that his best friend has no memory of Harry or his miserable pining whatsoever.

 

“Who’s Harry?” Louis asks, confused as to who he would be rambling about if he doesn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe Harry’s a singer, or the new Leonardo DiCaprio, or something…

 

“Oh, my sweet summer child!” The _Game of Thrones_ reference flies right over Louis’ damaged head, of course, “Harry’s the guy you’ve been crushing on for over a year.”

 

“A _year_? And I still haven’t made a move? Why?” Louis asks, flabbergasted at his own lack of courage.

 

New (old?) Louis has tattoos, and goes bungee jumping; he’s not supposed to be afraid of asking some guy out!

 

Zayn’s attempt at a response is interrupted by the delivery of what Louis guesses is supposed to be his mid-afternoon pudding but looks more like Daisy’s poop when their mom used to feed her yogurt as a baby.

 

It isn’t until later that night that he thinks about Harry again, wondering what he looks like, and how he managed to bewitch new (old?) Louis for over a year.

 

*

 

Louis’ fourth and last day at the hospital is by far the worst.

 

His stupid brain had somehow ignored the fact that if he was five years older, his sisters would be as well, so he’s beyond shocked when he sees how different they look, and absolutely flabbergasted when he notices that he’s got a new pair of siblings.

 

His heart gives a painful pang when he realizes that he’s lost five years of memories of the people he loves most in the world, memories that he might never get back.

 

Jay ends up having to ask Lottie to drive (what?!) the kids back to their house, as Louis has a hard time breathing after realizing that there will be no more bedtime stories for the older set of twins.

 

The whole experience had seemed a bit like the plot to a cool movie thus far, what with Louis waking up in the body of an older, cooler, and much better looking version of himself.

 

His siblings’ visit, however, has brought the bitter realization of just how much Louis has lost in the accident, millions upon millions of memories that he’s probably never going to get back.

 

Seeing his sisters all grown up had been the single most heartbreaking experience of Louis’ entire life.

 

 _You don’t know that, actually,_ Louis thinks bitterly, _you don’t even remember a huge chunk of your life._

 

Five years in his sisters’ lives is an eternity, Lottie and Fizzy going from children to teenagers in a blink of an eye, their makeup and fashionable clothes seeming completely out of place in Louis’ brain.

 

The twins are probably at that stupid age when they’re embarrassed to be seen with their big brother and absolutely allergic to any type of public demonstrations of affection, and Louis isn’t sure how to deal with that gruesome reality.

 

Not even the fact that he has a new set of siblings to spoil rotten makes him feel better, and he’s not surprised in the slightest when he ends up crying himself to sleep that night.

 

*

 

The following day is even more awkward and stilted, his sisters visibly unsure of how to interact with their big brother after such a negative reaction.

 

Louis has always been a family man though, so he ignores the black hole that has replaced his brain and forces himself to put on a strong façade to comfort his sisters.

 

The past five years aren’t brought up at all during the entire ride home, thankfully - the Tommos talk about what is happening right now instead, and Louis doesn’t feel out of place for a single second, which mends a bit of his heart.

 

Jay was understandably reluctant about letting Louis go back to his old (new?) life after the hospital debacle, so he’s going to be staying at their family home for a few days instead of going straight to his (new?) apartment.

 

In Louis’ messed up brain, this right here is home, his sisters (and brother!) running around creating havoc with their Mom chasing them.

 

Jay invites Zayn and Liam over for dinner as a compromise though, an arrangement that Louis is actually quite excited about.

 

He’s really curious about this Liam guy, as he’s heard so many good things about him.

 

Plus, he’s sure that seeing him and Zayn together will give him many an argument to mock his best friend for his sappiness.

 

His body doesn’t seem in tune with his mind though, as he gets a huge migraine just a few hours before dinner.

 

Oh, the perks of being brain damaged!

 

Louis takes his prescribed pain medication and gets into bed, only waking up when he hears two deep voices outside his door.

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t wake him up, Zee.” An unknown voice echoes down the hallway, belonging, Louis assumes, to the man who has turned his best friend into a swooning Disney princess.

 

“Jay literally told us to go wake him up for dinner, Leeyum! What’s up with you? Why are you so fidgety?”

 

Unlike the previous unknown voice, Zayn’s exasperated tone sounds very familiar to Louis, as he’s often the reason behind it.

 

“I’m scared, okay? What if he hates me? I mean, he certainly didn’t like me the first time we met! What are the odds that he’ll actually like me on our second first meeting?”

 

Liam takes a deep breath, his voice sounding suspiciously shaky and teary when he addresses Zayn again, “He’s my best friend, Zee. I really need Louis to like me. It would break my heart if he hated me…”

 

“Awww, babe, I promise that won’t happen. He’s much more open-minded now than he was at eighteen. Plus, it’s not like you’re a complete stranger, okay? Louis already knows that you guys are best friends, so he’s bound to have a positive impression of you already. It’s not really an introduction, Li. We’re just reminding him of all of the reasons why he adores you.”

 

Zayn is right, of course. Louis hasn’t even met Liam yet and he already feels like cuddling the fuck out of him.

 

That doesn’t stop him from scaring Liam when they meet though, putting on his unimpressed-meets-evil expression for a few minutes before dissolving into giggles, startling Liam out of his panicked expression.

 

Dinner is a really fun affair, Liam and Louis getting along like a house on fire after spending well over twenty minutes mocking Zayn.

 

Louis was afraid of feeling like a third-wheel, especially given how he doesn’t actually remember Liam, but there’s something really natural and effortless about the way the three of them fit together, and he totally understands why his past (future?) self decided to share a home with Liam and Zayn.

 

*

 

Now that Louis has had a taste of his new (old?) life, he’s much more anxious to follow the doctor’s orders.

 

Jay agrees eventually, just as long as they take baby steps, so the following day Liam and Zayn take Louis to explore their shared apartment and neighborhood before he can seriously consider moving back in.

 

The couple are a bit of a strange combination, Liam’s over-eagerness a striking contrast to Zayn’s perpetual “too cool for you” look, but, as cliché as it may sound, they really do complement each other’s personality perfectly.

 

Louis has been told time and time again not to get his hopes up, but that still doesn’t prevent him from feeling tremendously disappointed when nothing about his own apartment strikes him as familiar.

 

Even though his brain has failed to actually recognize it, their small two-bedroom apartment overlooking a narrow Seattle street still makes Louis feeling instantly and unconsciously relaxed as soon as he takes in the crowded walls around him.

 

He may not be able to recall a single moment spent here, but there’s a lovely atmosphere that makes the modest, yet cozy apartment feel like home.

 

Zayn’s artwork is spread out all over the living room, always so easy to recognize, even if Louis doesn’t actually remember any of these pieces.

 

There are over a dozen photos littering the walls and coffee table, featuring only a few familiar faces, like the three men themselves, and Louis and Zayn’s families.

 

The whole space looks cozy and a tad bit quirky, clustered with books and a collection of movies no self-respecting twenty-something-year-old man should ever own, let alone put on display, including an unhealthy amount of musicals, rom-coms, and Marvel.

 

Zayn and Liam have been quiet thus far, allowing Louis to appraise and settle into what used to be his home until just a few days ago.

 

“Would you like some tea, Louis?”

 

Liam’s voice interrupts Louis’ thoughts, preventing him from lingering too long on the high school graduation photo he’d been staring at, yet another memory lost into the void in his brain.

 

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Liam. I’ll come with you, though.”

 

There’s a huge window in the kitchen overlooking a small park, and Louis can’t help but fall in love with how the afternoon sunlight makes the small space look like it’s radiating positive energy.

 

Louis is uncharacteristically quiet as he studies the notes, photos, and souvenir magnets covering every inch of the fridge. He recognizes himself in the large majority of the photographs, but he can only name about half the people he’s posing with.

 

He doesn’t delve too much into his memory loss once again though, as doing so would only manage to bring everybody’s morale down.

 

Liam makes him a perfect cup of tea with no word exchange needed, and Louis is reminded of how much he appreciates Louis 2.0 for having given him a chance.

 

The new terms were Liam’s idea, tentatively interjecting that “old Louis” and “new Louis” sounds derogative, as all versions of him are great.

 

The geeky terms, however, were all Zayn, proposing 1.0 for actual sixteen-year-old Louis, 2.0 for pre-amnesia twenty-one-year-old Louis, and 3.0 for the “current version”.

 

Truthfully, the terms had made Louis feel a little better, as he does not identify with who he was before the accident, but doesn’t really feel like the sixteen-year-old he remembers being, too damaged by the understanding of his loss to feel like a naïve teenager again.

 

The three men stay in the kitchen until Louis finishes his tea, talking about silly things, like the best movies that have come out lately and which singers have gotten themselves arrested since 2008.

 

Zayn and Liam get into a heated debate about whether or not Justin Bieber has actually had a change of heart or if it’s just for show, while Louis briefly wonders how some Canadian kid has become so popular in the U.S.

 

When Louis finally decides that he’s done avoiding his new (old?) bedroom, only Zayn accompanies him, slowly opening the door for the amnesiac.

 

The first thing he notices is how different this room smells in comparison to the one at his mom’s house, like a perfect reflection of the border between his high school and college years.

 

Whereas the other room had smelled vaguely like axe body spray and the flowery detergent his mom uses, this one has an overpowering manly scent, a pleasant mixture of high quality after-shave and the earthly scent that is present in all other parts of the house, with a lingering stench of weed.

 

Even the color of the walls and the posters tacked to them showcase the striking contrast between Louis 1.0 and 2.0, and he briefly wonders if he’ll ever get over the insecurity of not knowing which one of those personas he’s supposed to assume now.

 

Louis’ mind is oddly serene in his forgotten bedroom though, a sense of belonging that is absent at his mom’s house, as if his subconscious still recognizes this place as home.

 

Louis has always been a firm believer in wearing clothes that reflect his personality, so he starts off by opening the closet doors, trying to get a sense of the image that he was trying to project before the accident.

 

The floor is littered with what looks like the entire Vans’ summer collection, but Louis notices an inconspicuous black box tucked into the corner and he can’t help but be curious as to what’s in there.

 

“Please don’t open that while I’m around, dude.” Zayn interjects as soon as Louis reaches for the box.

 

Oh! So, Louis 2.0 was the proud owner of enough sex toys to fill a big shoebox, apparently. Good to know! Maybe Louis 3.0 can put them to good use once he moves back in.

 

(Louis isn’t really sure when it became a given that he would move back into his old (new?) apartment, but he guesses it must have been around the time he noticed how at home and relaxed he felt here.)

 

The vast majority of his clothes are either black or white, which Louis could probably have already guessed from the few outfits Zayn had brought him to the hospital. His current (old?) style is definitely galaxies away from the red jeans and striped t-shirts he remembers wearing, but Louis loves it.

 

The amnesiac continues exploring his bedroom, occasionally asking questions or pausing to listen to Zayn’s recount of different memories.

 

Although there are quite a few finds that surprise Louis, he’s most confused by the gigantic collection of biographies, encyclopedias, and overall snooze-inducing books displayed on his shelves.

 

He has never been much of a bookworm, but even if he had any interest in literature, he’s still certain that he would have stayed far, far away from History books.

 

The only explanation he can possibly think of is that they belong to Liam, and that he’s let him keep them here out of the kindness of his heart.

 

“Zayn, why are all these boring ass books in my room? No offence, but if Liam thinks History is interesting, you should consider breaking up with him. I can’t imagine anything that would kill a boner faster than “1001 facts you should know about the US Presidents”” Louis jokes as he struggles to pick up said book.

 

God, the weird shit people like. U.S. Presidents, honestly!

 

“LIAM, COME HERE! YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS THIS!” Zayn positively _yells_ , his voice breaking hilariously with the force of his chuckles.

 

“Oh my God, did he ask about the books? Please tell me he asked about the books!” Liam shrieks, looking oddly similar to a prepubescent girl at a Jonas Brothers concert.

 

 _Or a Justin Bieber concert_ , Louis corrects himself.

 

“Sooooo, are you planning on telling me what’s so funny about the books or are you just going to just sit there and mock your brain damaged best friend? Trisha didn’t raise you to be like this, Zayn Javadd Malik!”

 

Zayn looks like the cat that got the cream after Louis’ request, smiling ecstatically as he takes in the confused expression written all over his best friend’s face.

 

“Well, my dear, allow me to tell you a story about a little twenty-year-old boy named Louis. Our petite hero lived at the college dorms, and he was a really lucky boy because he got to share a room with an infinitely cooler boy named Liam. LouLou might have been young, but he had the attitude of a grumpy grandpa, so when his next-door neighbors graduated and a pair of freshmen moved in, our little hero was very sour about this change. But, as fate would have it, one sunny Tuesday morning, LouLou saw a vision worthy of a cinematographic interpretation when he got up to tinkle - a boy with curls as wild as the waves of the ocean and eyes like the greenest of grass, clad only in a tight pair of underpants. I’d include your description of the size of his package in the story, but I really don’t want to. Anyways, our petite hero-“

 

“I really wish you’d stop describing me like I’m the size of a garden gnome.”

 

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, our fun-sized hero was so enraptured with the other boy’s beauty that he suddenly lacked the ability to make use of his social skills. There’s really no poetic way of saying that you were so intimidated by his looks that you nearly shat your pants. Well, you basically just stared at him and then ran away.”

 

“I still don’t get how any of this could possibly be related to Liam’s obsession with History, but okay.” Louis interjects, the second-hand embarrassment making him cringe.

 

(Is it really second-hand just because he can’t remember it, though?)

 

“Patience, little one! Well, God certainly works in mysterious ways, because the boy little Lou was infatuated with turned out to be the owner of the room right next to his. After going through a bit of a turmoil, our not-so-brave hero discovered that the boy’s name was Harry Styles, which promptly led him to use the 21st century method of courting: social media stalking. So, after many hours of creepy Instagram/Facebook/Tumblr/Twitter stalking and a few awkward conversations, our cowardly lion discovered that there were three things Harry Styles loved most: his family, bananas, and, you guessed it, History! You see, Louis’ god-like neighbor _loved_ a good historical book, but his absolute favorite ones were the biographies of the 43 U.S. Presidents. Are you seeing where this story is heading, Louis?”

 

Louis can, indeed, see what Zayn’s “story” is getting at, but he just cannot believe he could ever be as pathetic as to take up the single most boring hobby in the history of mankind to impress a guy, regardless of how attractive said guy might be.

 

“One sad Saturday afternoon, History Harry knocked on our itty bitty hero’s door and gave him the worst news possible – the school office had moved him and his roommate to another dorm. Little Lou was simply heartbroken thinking that he’d missed out on his chance at true love. Desperate times call for desperate measures though, so, instead of just asking Harry out on a date like a normal person, he did the unimaginable – he joined the History club just so he could see his one true love every Wednesday evening. But, as if joining the club was not pathetic enough, our pint-sized pixie decided that the best way to establish common ground between him and the History enthusiast was to read every single book about U.S. Presidencies he could possibly get his hands on. So, that, my dear, is how you ended up with a impressive collection of incredibly boring books and a laughable knowledge of all things Presidential.”

 

Louis had been thoroughly impressed with his new (old?) looks and life thus far, going from an invisible theatre geek to a tattooed punk-looking guy who was daring enough to go bungee jumping was certainly remarkable.

 

Discovering to what extent Louis 2.0 had been willing to go for a guy he wasn’t even dating, however, was like a punch to the stomach.

 

He had foolishly thought that his new looks and location had given him the confidence he had lacked in high school, but now it was clear that Louis 2.0 was a bit too similar to Louis 1.0, just with a better sense of style.

 

The amnesiac is positively _appalled_ with his own behavior, swearing up and down that Louis 3.0 is going to be braver and bolder than the other two versions of himself. He’s nothing if not resilient, and improving himself seems like the type of mission he needs right now.

 

He may be completely helpless as to whether or not his memory will ever return, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t take control of his own life by mending his flaws.

 

Having an outsider perspective towards his own experiences is simultaneously the strangest and most motivating occurrence of his entire life.

 

He doesn’t want a fresh start though, just a chance to correct everything he’s done wrong, starting with a Mr. Harry Styles.

 

Louis is aware there are a few things in life that are actually more important than some silly crush, like doing some volunteer work or actually start recycling, but the second-hand embarrassment he feels as he stares at his own bookshelf overpowers everything else.

 

*

 

The opportunity to carry out his plan arises sooner than Louis had been expecting.

 

After an incredibly emotionally exhausting conversation with his mom and a promise to take good care of himself, Louis has finally received Jay’s seal of approval to move back into his old (new?) apartment, and he wastes no time before settling in.

 

Only there’s a slight problem – he has no idea what happened to his keys, which means that he’s locked out of his own house.

 

Thankfully, Zayn agrees to skip his early afternoon lecture when the amnesiac bribes him with a cappuccino at the art major’s favorite coffee shop. (Not that Louis actually knows where it is, but he gets there eventually.)

 

Zayn is in the middle of a long-winded rant about his “spawn of the Devil” professor when he suddenly stops talking, looking at Louis with poorly concealed mirth.

 

“Oh my God, he’s here! This is too good!” Zayn says, looking like a kid at a candy shop, which Louis is certain cannot bode well for him.

 

“Who? Your professor?” Louis asks, confused as to whom his best friend could be referring to besides the person they were talking about before.

 

“No, you idiot. Harry’s here.” Zayn explains, giggling like a maniac.

 

“History nerd Harry?”

 

“I think you mean Harry, who turned _you_ into a History nerd. But, yeah, that’s him right there at the end of the line. He’s standing next to the blonde energizer bunny.”

 

Louis turns his head to the left to look at the small crowd standing in line for coffee, having zero trouble identifying the “blonde energizer bunny” Zayn had been referring to.

 

He takes his time to fully appreciate the boy standing next to him, the apparent culprit of turning Louis 2.0 into a pathetic mess, making a pact with himself to not let his good looks intimidate him again.

 

He starts slowly in his appraisal, the boy’s turned back making it infinitely easier to creep on him without getting caught.

 

He notices the brown suede boots first, scoffing at the hipster look the History boy is clearly going for.

 

His gaze moves upwards then, taking in the long, shapely legs clad in a tight pair of black jeans.

 

 _Pretty impressive so far, not gonna lie,_ Louis thinks as he takes in the boy’s small, but firm-looking butt.

 

His eyes travel over the boy’s back next, his black sweater tight enough to accentuate his large shoulders, and flimsy enough to make the tattoos on his arms partially visible.

 

Louis finally lets his gaze reach the soft-looking chocolate curls styled artfully into a messy quiff, and he has to physically restrain himself from reaching forward to touch them.

 

“Okay, I kind of get it now. He’s pretty hot, Louis 2.0 was right.” Louis admits, his eyes now glued to Harry’s ass again.

 

Louis is so distracted that he doesn’t even realize that the History fanatic has already been served until he’s suddenly staring at very, uh, _noticeable_ bulge.

 

He looks away quickly, hoping that the other boy hasn’t noticed his awkward and, quite frankly, perverted staring.

 

“Louis?” A deep voice rasps out, causing Louis to look up, which, as it turns out, is a big, big mistake.

 

The raspy, and undeniably sexy, voice belongs to none other than Harry Styles, of course.

 

Louis feels like his breath has been punched out of him as he locks eyes with his old (new?) crush.

 

If he’d been flustered before just because of the other boy’s body, he is absolutely flabbergasted now as he stares at the prettiest eyes he has ever seen - they’re big enough to be a bit Bambi-ish, and a gorgeous shade of green with a few specks of gold in them.

 

Louis’ gaze travels down to the boy’s pink plush lips, then.

 

He blames his damaged brain for the endless string of mental images he’s been assaulted with - those luscious lips kissing his forehead in the morning; moving against his own passionately; Louis biting the lower one; stretched widely around his cock.

 

His last fantasy is interrupted - thankfully! Louis wasn’t sure if he could blame the awkward boner that had been growing in his pants on his amnesia - when Zayn finally manages to contain his giggles and saves his ass.

 

“Sorry, Louis tends to zone out a lot now due to his brain injury.”

 

Zayn pretends to pat his best friend’s hand tenderly, but sneaks in a painful pinch to try to put an end to his obvious staring.

 

“Yeah, no, of course, I’m sorry. I was just asking how you were feeling, Louis. I mean, obviously you’re not feeling particularly great. That was probably a terrible question, right? It was insensitive of me, wasn’t it?”

 

Louis would probably have had trouble keeping up with the curly boy’s logic and mumbled words had it not been for how slowly he’d spoken.

 

He briefly wonders whether Harry always speaks like that or if he is under the impression that the amnesiac has the mental capability of a 3-year-old child now.

 

“Yes, I mean, no, it wasn’t insensitive. I feel fine, if not a bit overwhelmed, but thank you for asking, um?”

 

The questioning tone is an incentive for Harry to introduce himself, even though Louis already knows exactly who he is.

 

The first goal on Louis’ plan was to have a better introduction than Louis 2.0 had managed, and he’s pretty sure that he’s succeeding so far, probably due to how low the bar had been set the first time around. ´

 

“Harry, my name’s Harry.” The curly boy says, picking up on Louis’ silent request, “I lived in the dorm room next to yours last year for a few months. We’re in the History club together too, or, I mean, were. I don’t know if you’re going to stay in the club after, you know, everything that’s happened.”

 

Louis briefly wonders how it is possible for Harry to sound even more awkward and flustered than him.

 

“I, uh, I might, I’m not really sure yet.” Louis answers, ignoring the snort coming from Zayn’s direction.

 

“Harry, you’re going to be late for your Women Studies class, ya cunt.” The blonde energizer bunny says way too loudly, in what sounds like the fakest Irish accent Louis has ever heard.

 

“I guess that’s my cue, then. Bye Zayn. It was really nice to see you, Louis. I hope that I’ll still get to see you around.” Harry says in a wistful tone, before walking towards the door.

 

Louis watches the curly-haired boy trip over thin air on his way out of the coffee shop, and he can’t help but sigh pathetically when Harry shows off his dimples as he giggles at his own klutziness.

 

And now he truly understands what the fuss around Harry Styles is about.

 

He might look like everybody’s wet dream, which is captivating enough in itself, but he’s actually a bit of a dork when you talk to him, and surprisingly uncoordinated.

 

Louis is a sucker (literally!) for an adorable doofus, and Harry seems to tick every box in his perfect husband checklist.

 

*

 

The second time Louis hears Harry’s raspy voice, he curses his luck, as he is less than five seconds away from breaking down in tears.

 

He’s all curled up in himself, with his back pushing against the brick wall and his knees tucked against his chest.

 

The amnesiac is actually surprised that Harry even knew it was him given that he’s resting his head on his crossed arms.

 

The top of his head must be easily recognizable or something.

 

“Louis? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Harry asks softly, as if raising his voice above a whisper would upset Louis.

 

(It probably would, though.)

 

“You know what? No, I’m not alright. I apparently chose a college that is filled with heartless dickheads! And you know what’s even better? I can’t even remember why I chose it! Was is because it was in my hometown? Or was it because it offered a good program? Maybe I chose it because Zayn chose it, who knows? Not me, that’s who!” Louis yells, feeling the tears that he’d been trying so hard to suppress finally start to slide down his cheeks.

 

He’s been letting his feelings build up without dealing with them in true Louis Tomlinson style, and it was bound to blow up in his face. He just wishes he would have chosen somewhere else to have a breakdown that wasn’t right in front of his old (new?) crush.

 

Harry approaches him in the same way you’d approach a frightened animal, slowly and without any brusque movements, but Louis is still somehow surprised when he feels a pair of strong, warm arms wrap around him.

 

He lets his head rest on the other boy’s chest, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne as he wills himself to calm down.

 

“Shhh, it’s okay Lou. Do you want to tell me what’s going on? Maybe venting will make you feel better. I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” Harry says with a soft smile, looking at Louis with fondness rather than the expected pity.

 

Louis concentrates on the soft thud of Harry’s heart for a few seconds, before detaching himself slowly from the younger man’s arms and having what can only be described as word vomit.

 

“Well, let’s see, the college that my overworked mother is paying thousands of dollars for me to attend has decided that I’m a liability to their credibility because of my memory loss, so they’re forcing to retake all the classes I’ve already finished because I can’t remember what I learned. I’m literally being punished for being brain damaged, how fucked up is that? My best friend is going to graduate and go on his merry way while I’m still going to be stuck here for God knows how many years. I’m literally too stupid to graduate at the same time as everybody else! Hey, maybe my younger sister will graduate college before me, wouldn’t that be fucking great?”

 

“Yeah, because she’s, like, an _adult_ now. She drives, and wears make-up, and has a dodgy-looking boyfriend, and I’m still wondering where the tutu-clad little girl I remember is hiding. It’s like I went to sleep one night and when I woke up my babies were not so little anymore. They’re moody teenagers who would rather drown than listen to a bedtime story or bake cookies for Santa. Forget about _Blue’s clues_ , their world revolves around Kylie Jenner now, whoever the hell she is. And I really fucking miss them, okay? They’re still right there, but they’re so different now, and I’ll probably never remember Lottie’s first driving lesson or Fizzy’s freshmen year of high school. I have no idea when Phoebe stopped sleeping with her blankie or when Daisy lost her last baby tooth.”

 

“Everybody has all these memories involving me and I have none of them. Every time Zayn tells me about the pranks we pulled on our RA or the epic parties we went to, I feel like screaming until he shuts up. I can’t even get a fucking glass of milk in my own home without seeing those damn photos in the fridge staring back at me. I’m never going to remember any of those moments and sometimes I feel like I’m stuck living someone else’s life, even if that person was actually me once upon a time. I mean, I can appreciate how cool my tattoos look, but I’ll always have to ask somebody else what they mean.”

 

“I’m just so fucking tired of people trying to jam all these memories back into my brain, you know, as if I’ll suddenly remember if they tell me about them enough times. Everybody is so fucking keen on helping me remember what I’ve forgotten that I feel like I’m not even allowed to create new memories, you know? No, you _obviously_ don’t know. That was a stupid question.”

 

Tears are steadily flowing down Louis’ overheated cheeks, and he briefly wonders if he’s ever going to stop embarrassing himself in front of Harry.

 

“You’re right, I don’t know what being in your situation feels like, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to try to cheer you up.” Harry says before getting up, holding out his right hand in Louis’ direction, “C’mon, get up. We’ve got places to be and people to see.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Louis is beyond confused with this quirky man-child now, but he still obeys and stands up.

 

“ _We_ , Louis Tomlinson, are creating memories.”

 

 

Harry apparently decides that the winter fair is the ideal place to start _creating memories_ , as he quite literally drags Louis by the hand to the ice-skating ring.

 

The weak winter sunlight seems to highlight Harry’s impressive features, the manly and prominent angle of his jaw contrasting beautifully with the kindness reflected in his light-green eyes.

 

The curly-haired boy is wearing an expensive-looking black pea coat that looks likes it’s been sown to fit royalty, with a pair of black jeans underneath and a _leopard-printed_ sweater, of all things.

 

“Full disclosure, I have the balance of a newborn giraffe on solid ground, so my ice skating skills are definitely, uh, _lacking._ ” Harry admits, blushing prettily at his own confession.

 

Louis has a hard time believing that someone who looks like Harry and is as charming as he is could ever be bad at anything.

 

 

Harry definitely wasn’t being modest, as it turns out, his bony ass making contact with the ice more often than his feet, but Louis still has the time of his life, snorting unattractively every time the other boy slips and falls.

 

The younger man takes it in a stride though, laughing just as hard at his own lack of grace.

 

 

The pair finally decides to call it quits when they lose the ability to feel their hands, buying two cups of overpriced hot chocolate in the nearby café to heat themselves up.

 

“Thank you, Harry. You’ve really managed to turn a shitty day into a great memory, and you have no idea how much that means to me.” Louis says after they’ve sat down at a cozy table right next to the window.

 

He wouldn’t normally be this sincere about his emotions, but it’s been a long day, and Louis just can’t help the ingrained need to make the other boy feel cherished and acknowledged.

 

“You’re welcome, Louis, but I’m not done yet. I’ve got another surprise for you - one that I think you’re going to love.”

 

There’s a tantalizing smirk tugging at Harry’s lips, fueling a wide range of full-blown fantasies in Louis’ brain as he tries to understand why the other boy is looking at him like that.

 

 

Harry’s surprise, as it turns out, is the best kind of raunchy, the Dr. Frank-N-Furter kind.

 

The curly-haired boy buys them tickets for a community theater interpretation of _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ , one of Louis’ favorite musicals, only dethroned by _Grease_.

 

Louis has been in love with the eccentric musical since the first time he saw it, and he briefly wonders if Louis 2.0 had told Harry that or if it was just a lucky guess.

 

The production is certainly no Broadway show, but all the actors seem incredibly passionate, and they embody their characters perfectly.

 

There’s something so captivating about watching the people on stage respect the noble art of acting, even if they don’t necessarily have the monetary funds to create a perfect set or flawless costumes.

 

The amnesiac always seems to fall more and more in love with the performing arts every time he sees a play, and he shares his sappy thoughts with the curly-haired boy.

 

“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself. I loved it too, though I still think you were a much better Dr. Frank-N-Furter than that guy could ever hope to be.”

 

Zayn may have already told Louis about his previous role, but that doesn’t stop him from being completely stunned by Harry’s comment.

 

“You went to see my play?”

 

“Yeah, of course. It was by far the best play I’ve ever seen. You’re, like, really talented, Louis.”

 

Louis still cannot believe that he had the balls to play such a risqué role in front of God knows how many people.

 

The knowledge that Harry has seen him wearing red lipstick and fucking _lingerie_ while shaking his hips on stage causes heat to spread all over his face.

 

“Oh my God, I am so embarrassed! I can’t believe you’ve seen me in that, uh, _outfit_.”

 

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover it actually, Louis is absolutely _mortified_.

 

He briefly wonders if Louis 2.0 had noticed Harry in the audience while he strutted around practically naked on stage, singing about how he’s “one hell of lover” by night.

 

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed! You looked really, uh, g-good. Yeah, it was, um, a good look on you, you know.” Harry is stammering like he’s the one whose panties they’re discussing, his cheeks growing just as red as Louis’ own.

 

Louis steers the conversation back to less embarrassing grounds, arguing that discussing his forgotten performances is defeating the purpose of the whole afternoon.

 

Harry seems just as happy to go back to more PG topics, talking about his sister’s cat the entire walk to Louis’ apartment.

 

The amnesiac has never been less glad to arrive at his home, wishing that he could spend the rest of his life listening to the other boy’s syrupy voice.

 

“Well, I guess this is it. I had a really great time, Harry. Thank you.”

 

Louis is suddenly glad that he’s had many, many years of experience as an actor, as he wouldn’t have been able to keep the abysmal disappointment he feels from being obvious on his face otherwise.

 

He just really, really doesn’t want to part from the green-eyed boy, and God only knows when he’s going to see him again.

 

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun too.”

 

Harry looks like he’s struggling to decide whether or not to say something, but he apparently decides against it, as he just starts walking backward. He adds a “Don’t be a stranger, Lou.” before turning around.

 

Louis somberly watches the other boy walk away for a few seconds before finally unlocking the main door to his building.

 

The heavy wooden door is just about to slam shut when he hears a rushed “Louis, wait!” in the same deep voice that he’s grown to love.

 

“Yeah?”

 

There’s a sheepish, yet determined look on Harry’s face as walks towards Louis once again.

 

“I was just wondering, um- I wanted to, uh” Harry exhales a self-deprecating laugh before rushing out, “I have this friend, right, his name’s Niall and he lives by this grand motto of never wasting opportunities ‘cause you never know what could happen. And it’s kind of funny, only, well, not really, ‘cause there’s nothing funny about intracranial bleeding. Anyways, I’d been meaning to ask you out for ages, right, and Niall always used to encourage me do it before I missed out on my chance. I think he meant before you got a boyfriend or something - I’m pretty sure he couldn’t have predicted the whole amnesia thing. Wow, I’m making such a fucking mess out of this, aren’t I? Well, anyway, what I’m trying to get at is - would like to go out to dinner with me? Like, you know, like, a date?”

 

Harry looks beyond endearing, his feet pointing inwards and cheeks so red, you could probably fry an egg on them.

 

Louis is positively swooning due to the younger man’s stance and long-winded proposition – he can hardly believe that Harry is a real person, let alone that he’s interested in silly old Louis.

 

“Yeah, um, I’d really like that, actually.” Louis manages to spit out, mentally patting himself on the back for coming up with a somewhat coherent answer.

 

He might not actually be able to remember being asked on a date before, but he’s still sure that none of the others were this lovely and adorable.

 

“Great, uh, that’s great! Saturday, maybe? I know this lovely gourmet burger place that serves the best New York-style strawberry cheesecake, is that okay? We can go somewhere else if you prefer, of course.”

 

Harry is still clearly flustered, but there’s a gorgeous grin tugging at his lips now, his lovely dimples giving Louis heart palpitations.

 

“No, that sounds great, actually. I love cheesecake!”

 

Louis is pretty sure Harry could have suggested dinner at Chuck E. Cheese’s and he would still be just as elated.

 

After all the pathetic pining that Louis 2.0 had done, he just can’t believe that the curly-haired boy had been interested in him all along.

 

“Here,” Harry says, offering Louis his phone, “put your number in, please, just in case.”

 

Louis accepts the phone with a cheesy smile, going above and beyond by taking a silly selfie for his contact information.

 

*

 

“Just in case” turns into Louis being glued to his phone all day, every day.

 

Their daily texts range from the expected _how are you today? x,_ to an appalling number of links to cat videos.

 

Harry has quickly become an indispensable part of Louis’ routine, causing inappropriate butterflies to overwhelm the smaller man at the most unexpected of times, like at the supermarket, or when he’s playing with his baby brother.

 

A single text from the curly-haired man has the ability to make him smile like a lunatic, even when he’s on the goddamn toilet.

 

Harry is charming and infuriatingly sweet, and Louis wants to kiss him, hug him, and blow raspberries on his tummy, all at the same time.

 

He simply cannot believe that a few days were enough to transform him from a somewhat sane guy to a full-time Harry Styles worshipper, but he certainly cannot bring himself to regret accepting the taller boy’s invitation to create new memories.

 

*

 

Harry had told Louis that he would pick him up at seven p.m., which means that at five p.m., the blue-eyed man is already standing in front of his closet cursing at his past-self’s clothing choices.

 

Thing is, Louis 2.0 might have been asked on plenty of dates, but the 3.0 version of himself doesn’t even remember ever being kissed, so he’s understandably jittery about tonight.

 

He’s seriously considering burning the entire house down merely out of frustration when a sympathetic-looking Liam brings him tea, probably due to how loudly he was ranting about his poorly conceived incendiary plan.

 

“Do you want to hear something funny?”

 

Liam seems to take his frustrated grunt as an agreement, as he just keeps talking, “I was so nervous before my first date with Zayn that I literally hid under the covers the entire day to avoid facing my anxiety. It wasn’t until halfway through our date that I realized how silly I’d been – he obviously liked me enough to ask me out, so it just didn’t really make sense for me to be that nervous. I know that you can’t really control how nervous you are, but I just want to remind you that the whole reason why you’re going out tonight is because Harry wanted to spend more time with you, even after you’d already spent an entire day together. He obviously likes you, Louis, so just stay true to your amazing personality, and I’m sure that he’ll be making heart eyes at you by the end of the night.”

 

Liam’s little speech was a bit corny and cliché, but it seems to have somewhat worked on Louis, who feels just a little less likely to destroy his entire closet.

 

(And building complex.)

 

Plus, knowing just how well that first date had worked out for his best friends plants a little seed of hope in his heart that maybe, just maybe, he and Harry might become equally as nauseating in a nearby future.

 

“What made you get out from under the covers and get ready for your date, then?” Louis asks, stalling his own eminent decision process.

 

“You did, actually, but you were a hell of a lot more forceful and rude about it than I’m being right now.” Liam snorts, looking melancholic as he relives a memory Louis doesn’t have anymore, “You even chose my entire outfit, and I have to admit that you made me look hot as fuck. Zayn looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack when he first saw me that night.”

 

“Are you offering to pick out my outfit, then? Cosmic retribution and all that?”

 

Liam doesn’t even bother answering; simply walking to the pile of clothes Louis had ripped from his hangers earlier in search of a specific item.

 

He finally finds it under a pile of black and white vests, setting the blue sweater on the bed before picking up a black pair of tight jeans.

 

Liam encourages Louis to put his newly picked outfit on, rolling the bottom of his jeans upwards to display the smaller boy’s dainty ankles and LGBTQ triangle tattoo.

 

The other boy finishes the outfit off with a pair of black vans, before finally allowing Louis to look in the mirror.

 

The very first thing Louis notices is how the wool sweater brings out his bright blue eyes, making them look even more striking than before.

 

His jeans wrap tightly around his thighs and ass, and, thankfully, Louis has recently grown more confident about those two features.

 

He looks casual enough to go to a burger place, but just as attractive as such an important occasion demands.

 

Zayn ends up contributing to Louis’ look as well, styling his hair into a more put together wind-swept hairstyle than the amnesiac usually sports.

 

This whole day had already felt oddly significant, but Liam and Zayn’s contributions to his date make it all seem worthy of remembering for years to come.

 

 

Louis jumps like a frightened cat when Harry rings the doorbell, choosing to meet him downstairs instead of allowing him to come up, a desperate measure to avoid being embarrassed by Liam and Zayn.

 

He nearly drops his phone from where he was tucking it into his pocket when he sees Harry, the younger man looking unfairly attractive.

 

He’s wearing a black pea coat over a plain white t-shirt with a neckline that is low enough to show off his bird tattoos and numerous necklaces.

 

His legs are clad in his signature tight black jeans, and he’s wearing the same brown boots as when they “first” met.

 

Harry’s broad movements as he hugs Louis, open his coat wider to reveal a plaid shirt over his white t-shirt, putting the amnesiac into a state of near hyperventilation as he wonders whether or not the shirt will be short-sleeved to show off his toned biceps.

 

“Ready to go, Louis?”

 

Harry’s deep voice and use of the nickname melt Louis’ heart instantly, making him less nervous somehow.

 

“Sure thing, Haz.” Louis figures it’s only fair for him to come up with a cute nickname as well.

 

“Haz?” Harry asks, clearly confused.

 

“That’s your nickname now, obviously. Keep up, silly!”

 

Louis briefly freezes as he realizes that insulting Harry is probably terrible first date etiquette, but he’s quickly reassured when the younger man giggles like a two-year-old child.

 

 

Dates, as it turns out, are just like normal hangouts, only with a more obvious underlying flirting tone. Their conversation flows just as easily as it had on their ice-skating/Rocky Horror adventure, thankfully.

 

Louis gets distracted admiring the tattoos littering Harry’s arm at one point, and that incites the younger man to go on a detailed explanation as to why he had chosen each and every one of them.

 

The amnesiac, however, is far from bored, literally sitting on the edge of his chair as he listens intently to Harry’s recounts.

 

The curly-haired boy is just as interested when Louis starts rambling about how quickly he has fallen in love with his baby siblings, and even demands to see pictures of both Ernest and Doris, cooing appropriately in response to their adorableness.

 

“I’m babysitting them tomorrow, actually. Mom and Dan are going to a wedding and they’re taking the whole entourage with them, so it’s only the babies and myself left behind. You can come watch them with me if you want.”

 

Wow, well done, Louis! You’re on a _first_ date with the most gorgeous guy on earth, and you invite him to change diapers with you. Oh, the shame!

 

“Really?” Harry asks enthusiastically, unintentionally preventing Louis’ imminent breakdown, “I’d love to. I _love_ babies!”

 

Well, that settles it, then!

 

 

The cheesecake is just as delicious as Harry had described it, and they even make a spur of the moment decision to go for a walk as to digest their heavy dinner.

 

Before Louis even realizes it, they’ve reached the front door of his building, thus ending their date.

 

The upset look on his face as they walk towards the door feels like déjà vu, but this time he is certain that he’s going to see Harry again, as they’re set to watch the babies tomorrow.

 

Louis, despite his lack of experience - or, rather, lack of recollection of said experience - is sure that it’s unusual for two people to get along as flawlessly as Harry and him, and he vows to always treasure every single one of their interactions.

 

Even what is supposed to be the most awkward part of a date – the goodbye – is just as effortless, Harry casually bending over to kiss Louis’ overheated cheek, before apparently rethinking it and dragging his lips over to Louis’ own to steal a sweet peck.

 

There are huge, goofy smiles threatening to overtake both of their faces as they finally walk away from each other, and Louis really does feel like incredibly lucky to have met Harry.

 

Louis breathes out a dreamy sigh as he unlocks his apartment door, still high on the amazing feeling he gets when he’s around Harry, and is instantly bombarded with questions from his two very curious best friends.

 

“How was it?”

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

“Did he kiss you?”

 

“Are you going out again?”

 

“Did he open doors for you like a gentlemen?”

 

“Do I need to beat him up?”

 

The last question startles the other two men, who instantly look at Liam with poorly concealed amusement.

 

“Liam, you’re like a giant teddy bear. You couldn’t even beat Darth Vader up, let alone a cutie pie like Harry.”

 

Louis is openly chuckling as he talks, a hilarious mental picture of Liam and Darth Vader having a fistfight forming in his messed-up brain.

 

Zayn gets the conversation back on track before Liam has a chance to go on what was surely going to be a long-winded rant about his fighting skills.

 

“So, how was your date, Louis?”

 

Louis brain is now too busy with _HarryHarryHarry_ to think about Liam anymore, so his chuckles have been replaced by embarrassing little giggles.

 

“It was amazing…” He sighs, much to the amusement of the other men.

 

“Are you going to elaborate on that, or are you just gonna stare at the wall like it’s proposing to you?” Zayn says sarcastically, earning himself an elbow to the stomach from Liam.

 

“Be nice, our baby is in looooove!”

 

Louis isn’t in love with Harry yet, but there’s no doubt in his mind that he could easily fall for the curly-haired boy in no time.

 

Harry is exactly the kind of guy who would fit perfectly in his imaginary family portrait, and he has a feeling that he’s going to be telling the story of their first date for years to come.

 

With that thought in mind, he parts from his friends with a quizzical “Not tonight, boys, not tonight.”

 

*

 

Jay drops the twins off at his apartment the next morning as per Louis’ request, a strategic measure to avoid scaring Harry off by introducing him to the entire Tomlinson/Deakin clan in one go.

 

He calls Harry immediately afterwards, the younger man picking up on the second ring, as if he’d been just sitting there waiting for his call.

 

 

Louis really should have known this would be a terrible idea, as the sight of Harry playing with his baby siblings has melted him into a big, useless pile of goo.

 

The curly-haired boy is dressed in a more chilled outfit today, clearly having had enough experience with babysitting to know better than to wear his favorite clothes around children.

 

He has ditched his usual pair of tight jeans for sweatpants, and is even hiding his messy curls under a light pink Carhartt beanie, but he still looks absolutely gorgeous.

 

Harry’s clearly just as besotted with the twins as they are with him, all three laughing loudly at each other’s silliness.

 

It’s fascinating to see how Harry can go from a flirting, smirking god to a light-hearted, attentive “big brother” in a matter of seconds.

 

 

Harry and Louis fall into complementary care-taking roles unexpectedly easily, making sure that both babies are constantly clean, fed, and entertained.

 

“You’re surprisingly good at this, you know. I mean, I’m used to having babies around all the time ‘cause I’m the eldest of seven children, but you only have one sister and she’s older, so color me impressed.” Louis says as he watches Harry feed Doris her bottle, soothing her astonishingly easily when she becomes fussy.

“Aw, thank you, Louis. I’m always offering to babysit everybody’s children ‘cause I love kids, so I guess I’ve gotten a lot more practice than you’d expect. I even have a goddaughter – her name’s Lux and she’s like, the cutest!”

 

Harry’s smile grows wider and wider as he talks about kids, his eyes disappearing into mere slits.

 

Louis watches as Harry unlocks his phone using only one hand to show him the background photo he has set up.

 

It’s even more adorable than Louis could have predicted.

 

A slightly younger-looking Harry is holding a blonde little girl tightly against his chest, and Louis can’t even help the _awww_ that falls from his lips.

 

Both Harry and his goddaughter – Lux, Louis corrects himself - are wearing sparkly tiaras, and they’re smiling so widely that he could probably count all of their teeth.

 

Louis is beyond fucked!

 

Harry had already looked and talked the part of his imaginary husband, but now that he knows that the younger man is going to be a great dad too, he just doesn’t know how to process the amount of fondness growing in his chest.

 

 

Harry kindly prepares a late lunch for both of them while the babies are napping, a delicious pasta miraculously made with the scarce ingredients stocked in Louis’ apartment.

 

Cooking skills, check.

 

 

Sadly, Harry has to leave a little before five p.m. because of his friend, Ed’s, surprise birthday party, but not before kissing and hugging both babies goodbye.

 

Louis is suddenly glad that he isn’t a girl, as he’s certain his ovaries would have exploded as he watched Ernest pout in response to Harry’s own pout.

 

He makes sure that there’s nothing dangerous within the babies’ reach before walking Harry to the door, stretching his neck upwards boldly in a blatant request for a kiss.

 

The taller boy smirks teasingly, before acquiescing Louis’ silent request and finally pressing his plush lips against the blue-eyed boy’s own.

 

Ironically, given that Louis’ baby siblings are just five feet away, this kiss lasts longer than their first one had.

 

Harry steals his breath away when he starts moving his lips against Louis’ own, wrapping his right arm around Louis’ small waist.

 

It’s not a French kiss, not by a mile stretch, but it’s sensual and mind-blowing, and Louis wants to stay in this particular moment forever.

 

Doris has other plans, though, her loud cries filling the living room and interrupting their kiss.

 

Harry chuckles lightly as he retrieves his paw of a hand from where it’d been resting on Louis’ waist.

 

“Sorry, I guess the babies are jealous that they’re not getting enough attention.” Louis apologizes, kissing Harry’s cheek before picking up the crying baby.

 

“It’s okay, I should really get going anyway. Keep your phone close though, I’m sure I’ll be getting Louis withdrawal symptoms soon enough.” Harry winks mushily after his own comment, before turning around and finally closing the door behind him.

 

*

 

Over the next few weeks Louis and Harry grow closer and closer to the point where they’re a permanent fixture in each other’s homes and lives.

 

Liam and Zayn adopt Harry into their clan in no time, and the green-eyed boy eventually drags his best friend, Niall, into their little family.

 

Louis honestly believes that even if he could remember his previous relationships, Harry would still trump over everybody else.

 

He’s sweet and funny, and so genuinely thoughtful, always picking Louis up from class or buying him sweets and other snacks when he’s cramming in the library.

 

They made their relationship official about a week ago, and Louis is currently in a bit of a pickle.

 

He has the perfect friends, the perfect apartment, and the perfect boyfriend, and now he’s antsy to get the perfect D, as the kids are calling it nowadays.

 

Harry seems to understand how insecure he is about his lack of experience, so they’re taking it slow.

 

Only, slow is slowly driving Louis insane!

 

He doesn’t even want the candles or flower petals anymore, he just _needs_ Harry, and not only because he’s got a boner the size of a light pole for him, but also because he’s quite sure that he’s in love with the curly-haired boy and he _wants_ to be intimate with him.

 

Louis just doesn’t how to ask for it.

 

He’s not ballsy enough to just say “fuck me, Harry”, but every time their make-out sessions become a little more heated, the taller boy always seems to put the brakes back on.

 

The poor guy probably thinks that he’s being considerate by not pressuring his boyfriend into doing anything sexual!

 

Louis is currently sprawled out on his bed thinking about how much he wants to touch and lick and ride Harry’s cock as he tries to get his breathing back to normal.

 

His roommates are in Portland visiting Liam’s family, which means that Louis finally got the chance to try the bright pink vibrator he’d found in the infamous box hidden in the closet.

 

(There had also been a pair of handcuffs, a butt plug, a suction cup dildo, and a cock ring.)

 

Louis could swear that he can still feel the vibrations inside him as he tries to assemble the energy to get up and clean himself up, but he’s certain that even a measly hand job from Harry would be more overwhelming.

 

The sound of his phone ringing finally forces Louis to get up, and he guiltily notices that his incoming call is precisely from Harry.

 

He tries to cover up how breathless he is by being funny.

 

“What can I do for you on this fine Friday afternoon, Mr. Styles?”

 

“Wow, what a _50 Shades of Grey_ way of answering the phone, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry says, his smirking obvious even through the phone.

 

“50 shades of what? What on earth are you talking about?” Louis asks, furrowing his brow in confusion.

 

“You know what, you don’t even want to know. They call it mommy porn for a reason.”

 

Louis is even more confused now. Mommy porn?

 

“Anyway, I was calling with a proposition, actually. Nick is throwing another one of his legendary house parties tomorrow night and I was hoping that my lovely boyfriend would be up for it… What do you say, Lou? ”

 

Truthfully, Louis is kind of scared of going to a party at some random guy’s house.

 

He doesn’t have any recollection of actually attending a college party before, but he’s seen them a million times in movies, and he honestly doesn’t think that he’d enjoy spending several hours in a dark, crowded house surrounded by drunk people.

 

He trusts Harry though, and he can’t possibly say no to him just because he’s a sixteen-year-old kid living in a man’s body.

 

“Yeah, sure, that sounds great. Can I invite Zayn and Liam too? They aren’t flying back until tomorrow morning, but I’m pretty sure they’d still be up for it.”

 

“Yeah, of course, Lou. Listen, I have to run ‘cause Gemma is trying to FaceTime me, but I’ll meet you at that little coffee shop you love for lunch tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Okay, I’ll see you there, then. Tell Gemma I said hi, please.”

 

Louis had met Harry’s older sister two weeks ago when she’d come for a quick visit, and the two of them had gotten along seamlessly in spite of how nervous he was and how intimidating she might have seemed initially.

 

“Will do. See you tomorrow, Lou!”

 

Louis is dragging Liam and Zayn to that party tomorrow even if he has to cry and beg to make it happen. He’s hoping that having his best friends with him will make him less nervous about this new experience.

 

*

 

Bringing Zayn and Liam, as it turns out, was totally useless for two main reasons.

 

The first one is that the two men are too busy sucking face once they get a few drinks in them to even notice Louis.

 

The second reason is that Louis is just as busy playing tonsil tennis with his own boyfriend.

 

Louis and Harry are absolutely intoxicated with their unusual raunchiness (and alcohol, of course), the amnesiac’s hand traveling over the expanse of his boyfriend’s back under his blue shirt as his ass is being routinely grabbed and squeezed.

 

Louis is sure they must be soul mates, as his generous behind fits perfectly into Harry’s abnormally large hands.

 

Louis feels momentarily self-conscious when he realizes that his length is visibly straining against the seam of his tight jeans, but he relaxes as soon as he feels the other boy’s erection against his hip, hot and pulsing.

 

He can feel how impressively long and thick Harry’s cock is, and he wants it inside him, like, yesterday.

 

His drunken brain has clearly had enough of this teasing game, apparently deciding that a public setting is the ideal place to grind his dick against Harry’s own, causing a deep moan to fall from the taller man’s lips.

 

Harry seems to think that they’ve given enough of a show though, as he leads Louis towards the door, his large hand engulfing the amnesiac’s own.

 

The curly-haired boy’s not the most coordinated person on a normal day, but his drunk and horny persona is even more of a mess.

 

No amount of tripping seems to lessen Louis’ arousal though, his cock still visibly hot and heavy where it’s tucked against his left thigh.

 

The intoxicated couple makes it back to Harry’s apartment in record time, literally tripping over themselves in a haste to undress each other.

 

Harry’s shirt is the first item to go, Louis carelessly unbuttoning it before giving up and just pulling it over the taller boy’s head.

 

He doesn’t even spare a second to admire Harry’s intricate tattoos before taking his own t-shirt off, yearning to feel the other boy’s hands against his bare skin.

 

Their jeans hit the floor immediately after, a single layer of thin fabric becoming the only item preventing their cocks from rubbing against each other completely bare.

 

Louis is about to reach inside Harry’s bright pink boxer-briefs to release his cock when his brain fucks up, Zayn’s words coming back to him at the worst possible time.

 

 _You lost your virginity with some guy you met a party._ _Don’t ask me what his name was. You probably couldn’t remember it yourself, even before the brain damage._

 

Harry isn’t a stranger by any means, but he can still taste the strawberry vodka on his tongue, which makes the current situation entirely too similar to the virginity story he was so ashamed and regretful of.

 

Louis was given a chance to correct his wrongs - even if involuntarily - and losing his virginity at a party was precisely something that had struck him as a mistake.

 

He might not be a virgin anymore, technically speaking, but, truthfully, his first time with Harry might be what he’ll always remember as his first sexual experience.

 

A drunken fuck that they might both regret when they wake up seems more like another mistake than an improvement, so Louis pushes Harry off when the other boy’s hands slide into his boxers to caress the bare skin of his ass.

 

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” Louis says loudly, a striking contrast to the quiet, lustful mood that had been permeating the air.

 

The amnesiac keeps his eyes glued to the floor, fearing Harry’s reaction to his apparent inability to suck his cock like a normal, worthy boyfriend.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, Lou.” Harry says, his right hand touching his jaw gently as an attempt to encourage Louis to look up.

 

It doesn’t work.

 

“I’m that one who should be apologizing right now. I shouldn’t have pressured you into doing something you didn’t want to do. You’re clearly not ready for this, but that’s okay, I swear. I promise this won’t happen ever again; we will move at your pace from now on. I was just drunk and acting like a horny douchebag, and I’m really, really sorry for being such a terrible boyfriend.” Harry rambles, visibly upset.

 

Louis is insanely lucky to have found a boy so incredibly understanding that he even blames himself for the amnesiac’s fucked up reactions.

 

“No, you don’t get it. _I_ don’t even get it myself, to be honest. I want this, I really do, and I’m ready to, you know, be with you that way, or whatever”, Louis states awkwardly, “I just-, uh, I want to do it when we’re sober and not rushing to rip each other’s clothes off. I just don’t want either of us to look back at it as a drunken mistake, you know.”

 

When Louis finally looks up, he doesn’t see disappointment or anger written on his boyfriend’s face, as he would have predicted.

 

Harry is looking at him with a fond expression, the huge smile tugging at his lips causing his gorgeous dimples to make an appearance.

 

The taller boy had looked beautiful with blown pupils and a hungry expression, but he’s absolutely mesmerizing right now, soft and warm, as if he’s offering Louis his heart with no apprehension whatsoever.

 

“You know, you might not look like it, but you’re a real softie, Louis Tomlinson.”

 

Harry’s words tug at Louis’ heart, so he opts for a diversion technique, hiding his head on the crook of his boyfriend’s neck and breathing in that characteristically sweet Harry smell that he loves so much.

 

“Shut up, doofus. I’m not soft, I’m manly and rugged.” Louis argues, trying to hide his warm cheeks.

 

“Oh, you might be all that to everybody else, but I’m really, really glad I get to see this lovely soft side of you, Lou.”

 

Louis is saved from saying something incredibly mushy and embarrassing by his phone’s ring tone.

 

“It’s Zayn,” he explains as he skims over the drunken jumble of letters, trying to decipher what in God’s name his best friend is trying to say, “I guess he’s wondering if I’m sleeping over here or if I’m coming back to our apartment. Ew, I really don’t want to know why he and Liam want the house to themselves.”

 

“Please stay, Louis. I’m a lovely little spoon, scout’s honor.” Harry says, clumsily pointing three fingers upwards in what Louis guesses is supposed to be some sort of boy scouts symbol.

 

“You’re ridiculous, that’s what you are.”

 

Louis’ attempt at sounding unimpressed falls short due to the fond smile tugging at his lips.

 

Harry lets him get away with it though, simply kissing the top of his head sweetly before guiding them towards his bedroom.

 

Louis falls asleep with blue balls once again, but, with his arms wrapped around his gorgeous boy and his nose buried in apple-smelling curls, he can’t even muster the ability to feel frustrated.

 

He briefly wonders if they’ll finally have sex in the morning, but he pushes that thought away to avoid, uh, awkward spooning situations.

 

*

 

Louis and Harry don’t have sex the next morning, nor the following one, and the amnesiac is thoroughly convinced that he has wasted his opportunity.

 

Their relationship is caring and awe-inspiring, but Louis can’t shake the feeling that there’s this big elephant in the room whenever they’re alone.

 

Had Harry told him that he wasn’t ready to have sex, Louis would have respect that, but, as it is, he can’t seem to find a single solid reason why they’re cock-blocking themselves.

 

They’ve even slept together again after a late night movie marathon, but they still haven’t _slept_ together somehow.

 

Despite all his frustration and constant state of arousal, Louis is still convinced that he’s never been as happy as he is with Harry’s arms around him, making him feel small and warm, and so incredibly _safe_.

 

*

 

Louis fixes his hair as he walks to Harry’s apartment, a wasted effort given the fast-blowing wind and humidity.

 

He’s just finished and passed an incredibly hard midterm exam with points to spare, a feat that Harry has deemed worthy of a celebration, tempting him by saying that there’s a surprise waiting for him at the younger boy’s home.

 

Louis really hopes this surprise involves either cheesecake or dick, or, ideally, both at the same time.

 

Despite his childish curiosity, the walk to Harry’s apartment still takes nearly twenty minutes, his frozen limbs refusing to cooperate.

 

The door opens to reveal a t-shirt-clad Harry, and Louis briefly wonders if he’s ever not going to be completely blown away by the younger man’s beauty.

 

The amnesiac rises to his tiptoes immediately, kissing his boyfriend passionately until he runs out of air.

 

They must have shared hundreds of kisses by now, but that warm, tingly feeling running down his spine has yet to diminish or go away.

 

“So, what’s the surprise, then?” Louis asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

 

The smirk Harry had previously been sporting fades into a sheepish look, and he grabs Louis’ hand before tugging him towards his bedroom.

 

He stops in front of the closed door, kissing the amnesiac’s forehead tenderly.

 

“Don’t be mad, but I talked to Zayn and he told me a couple of interesting things.”

 

Harry pushes his bedroom door open, causing a surprised gasp to fall from Louis’ lips.

 

“I’m not pressuring you into anything, Lou. You can still say no and I promise that I won’t be mad or upset, or any of that nonsense.”

 

Harry’s room looks like an exact replica of Louis’ teenage fantasies, probably a result of Zayn’s big mouth and his boyfriend’s dedication.

 

There must be over twenty lit candles spread around the room, a pleasant mix of vanilla and cinnamon permeating the air.

 

The red rose petals should look tacky and excessive in a real-life context, but they actually make Louis feel like crying for some fucked up reason.

 

He’s not sure whether to propose or suck the taller boy’s cock, but he decides that kissing him is probably a good starting point for both of those options.

 

Louis sucks on Harry’s tongue teasingly as he drags his left hand over the younger man’s abs, his firm muscles trembling under his ministrations.

 

There’s still a slight insecurity surrounding the amnesiac’s movements, a telltale sign of his inexperience and self-consciousness.

 

Harry picks up on his tenseness immediately, taking charge and setting the pace in the lust-filled bedroom.

 

Harry moves his hands down to Louis’ ass in a practiced manner, causing a whiny sound to work its way out of the smaller boy’s throat without his permission.

 

(Louis is starting to realize just how fascinated his boyfriend is with his ass, this particular position being somewhat of a default state in their relationship.)

 

There’s something about the way Harry’s tongue is exploring his mouth that is incredibly reassuring, a familiar action in the midst of such a novel situation.

 

Kissing Harry never fails to make him forget about his worries and insecurities, his fears being dissolved as his tongue traces the other man’s puffy lower lip.

 

The knowledge of the novelty of the current situation still hangs over Louis’ head though, making him both excited and nervous.

 

He’s rescued from his unnecessarily deep thoughts by Harry’s hands tugging at the hem of sweater, and he removes it immediately to expose his tanned torso.

 

The taller boy’s warm fingers trace his _It is what it is_ tattoo with such sweet reverence that he can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks.

 

The loving atmosphere surrounding them now is a striking contrast to that rushed first attempt at sex, making Louis feel incredibly glad that he chose to wait a little while longer.

 

Harry’s white t-shirt is the next item to go, the boy pulling it over his head just before encouraging Louis to get on the bed.

 

They resume their kissing lying down sideways, which Louis is certainly grateful for, as he thinks that having Harry directly on top of him would be too overwhelming right now.

 

His boyfriend is either really attentive or just plain lucky, though the amnesiac’s betting on the first option.

 

Louis’ breathing is becoming more and more accelerated, his heart beating loudly as he loses the ability to control his hip movements, moving desperately against Harry’s body.

 

He unzips the taller boy’s jeans then, his arousal keeping any insecurity away.

 

Harry rewards his sense of initiative by unbuttoning Louis’ jeans, reaching inside them immediately to trace his swollen length with his finger.

 

That little teasing touch is enough to startle a broken moan out of Louis’ throat, the sound echoing around the room and fueling Harry into taking both of their jeans off with a little display of acrobatics.

 

(There really is no graceful way to remove clothing whilst lying down on their sides.)

 

Being down to their underwear still doesn’t rush Harry, whose large hands are still worshipping every inch of Louis’ body.

 

When Louis finally takes his own underwear off, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in the slightest – he feels _proud_ of his body, as the way Harry practically salivates at the sight of him does wonders for his self-esteem.

 

His length is engulfed by maddening heat soon after, the feeling of Harry’s lips and sucked-in cheeks even more amazing than he could have ever imagined.

 

He’s certainly glad that, although his memories belong to his teenaged self, his stamina is that of an experienced twenty-one-year-old, as he’s sure he would have come as soon as his boyfriend’s tantalizing lips made contact with his cock otherwise.

 

Harry releases Louis’ hardened length with a pornographic pop, causing a whiny sound to leave the smaller boy’s mouth as soon as the cold air hits his spit-slick skin.

 

“Do you want to fuck me or do you want me to fuck you? None of the above is still an acceptable answer, Lou.”

 

Louis instantly blushes due to the bluntness of Harry’s question, but he’s glad his boyfriend managed to casually bring that particular topic up with no awkwardness whatsoever, as if asking whether or not he’d like to be penetrated is an everyday topic.

 

A delightful mental image of Harry on his hands and knees, begging to be filled to the brim, briefly crosses his mind, but he decides to stick to being taken care of for his second first time.

 

He saves his fantasy for a near future, and asks Harry to fuck him instead.

 

Harry grabs a brand new bottle of lube from the bedside table, taking his black boxers off before slicking up three fingers.

 

Louis gaze is still trapped on his boyfriend’s cock though, pink and oddly beautiful considering how it’s just a goddamn penis.

 

He’s just as big as Louis had predicted, if not even bigger, making the amnesiac feel impressed, yet scared of how painful having it inside him will be.

 

Harry seems to sense his fears, as he runs his lube-free over his Louis’ leg tenderly at the same time as his middle finger draws a wet line from his boyfriend’s balls down to his rim _._

Louis pushes his ass downwards shamelessly, causing the tip of Harry’s finger to finally breach him.

 

Harry seems adamant to fulfill his boyfriend’s wishes now, slowly pushing the entire length of his middle finger into Louis.

 

A simple finger has already managed to steal Louis’ breath away - in a good way, of course - and he briefly worries about how spacey his head is going to get throughout the rest of the night.

 

It really shouldn’t feel this different to have Harry’s finger inside him instead of Louis’ own, but the intensity of it has multiplied ten-fold.

 

Harry thrusts his middle finger in and out of Louis several times, only adding another when he feels the walls of his hole loosen up a bit.

 

The taller boy curls both of his fingers upwards suddenly, diligently searching for Louis’ prostate, before a stroke of luck makes him hit it spot-on.

 

Louis is filled with so much energy and pleasure right now that he feels like he could honest to God levitate.

 

The third finger is a bit of a stretch, but not more than Louis is already used to due to his handy bright pink vibrator.

 

Harry is patient with his prepping, making sure that Louis is as ready for his cock as he could possibly be.

 

He suddenly withdraws his fingers from inside his somewhat virginal boyfriend, much to the smaller man’s displeasure, though his irritation is soon extinguished as he watches Harry roll a condom down his length with slightly shaky hands.

 

The taller boy grunts loudly when his now lubed-up hand makes contact with his own length, making Louis’ cock twitch with pure arousal.

 

“Ready, Louis? I’ll take it slow because it always hurts a bit, but you have to promise to tell me if you’re in too much pain, okay?” Harry’s voice is still sweet and reassuring despite the gravely tone it has acquired, and Louis can’t wait to feel this lovely boy moving inside him.

 

Louis nods enthusiastically, as creating full sentences seems like too much for his lust filled brain at the moment.

 

He’s not dumb though, he knows that having a dick up your ass is never a totally painless process, but he trusts Harry endlessly, and he knows he’ll take good care of him.

 

Plus, it’s not like he’s an actual virgin, so it shouldn’t be as painful as a proper first-time, right?

 

Harry grabs the back of Louis’ knees and throws the smaller man’s legs over his shoulders, looking down at his boyfriend with a dirty smirk but hopelessly fond eyes.

 

He furrows his brow suddenly though, making Louis fear that he’s done something wrong.

 

When Harry removes his legs from his broad shoulders, it only adds to Louis’ worries.

 

“Did- did I do something wrong?” Louis asks in an uncharacteristically shy and small voice.

 

“No, fuck no, baby. I was just thinking that having you under me doesn’t feel right.”

 

Louis’ heart stops as soon as he hears that sentence, his insecurity and self-consciousness growing exponentially.

 

“I think that you _crave_ attention, and you’d love having all the power, wouldn’t you, baby? You should ride me instead; I bet you’d love that. I bet you’d look like you were _made_ for riding my cock.”

 

Harry’s voice grows from unsure to incredibly sultry as he watches the effect that his words are having on the smaller man.

 

Louis’ cock twitches visibly as soon as the word “ride” leaves Harry’s mouth, making the younger man confident that he’s made the right decision.

 

“Yeah, okay, lie down.” Louis’ previously tiny voice has gained a lot more enthusiasm and raw power.

 

He hadn’t even realized how much he disliked just lying there until Harry mentioned it, and he’s drunk with power now that he has this gorgeous man underneath him.

 

A flash of insecurity flashes through his face as he rises to his knees though, but Harry is quick to reassure him, always so in-tune with what he’s feeling.

 

“It’s your show, Lou - you can set your own pace. Don’t rush yourself though, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

Louis reaches behind himself to grasp his boyfriend’s hardened length, Harry’s words having been the final push he needed.

 

The feeling of Harry’s cock sliding into him is surprisingly different from that of a vibrator, the exquisite heat _pulsing_ inside him and driving him insane.

 

There’s quite a bit of pain and discomfort that results from forcing such an impressive dick up your butt, but the overall feeling is pleasure and _intimacy_.

 

Louis pauses halfway through, not just due to the pain, but mostly because his head is spinning with power and pleasure and so much love for his boyfriend.

 

They both exhale harshly when the amnesiac’s ass finally reaches Harry’s hip-bones, the latter looking at Louis like he’s the second coming of Christ.

 

Louis simply grinds for a while – it is his show after all, like Harry said, and he’s planning on dragging it out.

 

He suddenly decides to bounce up and down experimentally, causing both men to moan simultaneously.

 

He had always imagined a perfectly vanilla, missionary-style first time, but Harry was right - he was _made_ to bounce on his boyfriend’s gorgeous cock, the feeling so exquisite and overwhelming, Louis can hardly breathe.

 

He can barely hear Harry’s praises over the sound of his quickly beating heart and loud panting, but every time he catches a “so gorgeous” or “fucking perfect”, he moans loudly.

 

Harry finally understands his struggle the second time Louis changes the angle to try to hit his prostate, and he bends his knees for leverage before thrusting his own hips upwards.

 

Louis curses loudly and falls forward onto Harry’s chest when the head of his boyfriend’s cock finally hits his spot with perfect aim.

 

The amnesiac’s thighs are beginning to strain now, but the mind-blowing pleasure he’s being subjected to drives him further and further, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the candle-lit room.

 

Harry’s loud groans are driving him insane, mixing exquisitely with his high-pitched whimpers as the older boy bounces up and down quickly, his untouched cock bobbing around with the harshness of his movements.

 

Louis is weakened by exhaustion and by his fast approaching orgasm soon enough, completely surrendering his thus far intoxicating power to Harry.

 

The younger man doesn’t disappoint, throwing Louis onto his back and folding him in half.

 

The amnesiac reaches for his neglected cock then, desperate to achieve what he’s sure will be the strongest orgasm of his life.

 

Harry is on his knees as he pounds into Louis, his hands gripping the smaller man’s hips strongly to provide the fast, vigorous thrusts his boyfriend needs right now.

 

The intense energy coiled up in the amnesiac’s abdomen is finally released after just a few minutes in this position, and Louis reaches such an intense climax that he doesn’t even make a sound, nearly ripping the white pillow he’d been holding onto.

 

He barely notices the moment when his boyfriend finally climaxes, his sloppy thrusts dragging out Louis’ orgasm to a borderline excruciating point.

 

A loud groan echoes in his ears before Harry collapses on top of him, the wet stickiness of Louis’ release gluing their bare torsos together filthily.

 

There’s an insecurity tugging at Louis’ heart as he comes down from his high, a “what now?” pestering him as he’s filled with an illogical fear of not having been good enough for Harry.

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to dive into a full-blown self-doubt internal monologue, as his boyfriend lifts his head to look at him fondly, before giving him a tender eskimo kiss, such a sweet, genuine attitude Louis could _cry_.

 

All in all, his second first time wasn’t perfect, and Louis even felt considerably awkward and self-conscious at times, but he has never felt more loved and protected than he does at this very moment.

 

The physical component had been even more pleasurable and fun than he’d imagined, but it was the pure intimacy that really blew him away, an emotional connection so pure and wholehearted that it’s incomparable to anything he’s ever felt before.

 

*

 

There’s a crick in his neck when he wakes up, and his thighs burn at the smallest movement, but there’s also a beautiful man wrapped around his exhausted body tightly, his soft curls so close to Louis’ face that he can smell his sweet apple-scented shampoo.

 

Harry suddenly scrunches up his nose in his sleep, looking endearingly young, and so adorable, Louis struggles to keep himself from peppering kisses all over his gorgeous face.

 

He hasn’t got the faintest idea as to how long he’s been staring at his boyfriend’s lovely face before his phone starts ringing, causing the younger man to inhale a sudden quick breath and open his piercing green eyes.

 

Louis grabs his phone from where he’d set it down after sending a very graphic death threat to Zayn for not keeping his teenage fantasies a secret - he’s actually quite glad, but no one needs to know that - and winces as soon as he sees his mom’s name flashing on the slightly cracked screen.

 

He’s definitely going to hell for answering his mom’s call whilst completely naked in bed with his boyfriend.

 

“Hey, Mom!”

 

His tone is a clear overcompensation for how awkward the situation is, and Louis briefly wonders if it’s noticeable in his voice just how well fucked he feels.

 

Harry winces as well, hiding his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck and kissing the soft skin tenderly, causing goosebumps to appear on the amnesiac’s tanned skin.

 

“Good morning, Boobear! Did I wake you up?”

 

Louis figures that _No, I was actually staring at my boyfriend’s lips before you called and reminiscing about how amazing they had felt around my cock_ is probably not a very wise answer, so he settles for a dishonest “yeah”.

 

“Oh, are you home, then?”

 

The amnesiac is trying his best to answer his mom’s incessant questioning, but Harry fingers are drawing meaningless figures on his thighs, so it takes him a while to finally get another “yeah” out.

 

“Well, that’s certainly interesting. You see, I was in the city to pick something up and decided to stop by your apartment to take you out for breakfast. When Zayn answered the door, he told me that you had already left to do some revising at the library. Let me give you some advice, honey: next time you’re planning on sleeping over at your boyfriend’s place, please tell your friends to come up with a more believable excuse.”

 

“Oh, um, I-“ Louis tries to come up with a reasonable explanation that does not involve a dick up his ass, but all he ends up doing is stammering for well over a minute without ever forming a full sentence.

 

“Let me make this easier for you, Louis,” Jay says, interrupting his gibberish, “you have two options: I can either drag this out until you want nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole, or you and Harry can drag your sorry asses over here for lunch so that I can finally meet this boyfriend of yours. Now, what’s it going to be?”

 

Before Louis even has time to weigh his options, she’s adding, “Keep in mind that I have a vast knowledge concerning all types of intercourse and sexual endeavors, and I’ll be happy to share that knowledge with you as often, publicly, and loudly as possible.”

 

Louis doesn’t even bother asking Harry whether or not he’s willing to have lunch with his family - the speech he got when he was fifteen was so traumatizing that he’d be insane to risk another one.

 

( _Lube is lube, Louis. Shampoo is not lube. Lotion is not lube. Hair gel is not lube. Trust me, you don’t want to end up in the emergency room with an object trapped inside your rectum.)_

 

“We’ll be there, mother dearest. I’ll see you in an hour! Bye now.”

 

 

An hour and a half later, and after an insane amount of kissing and some shower shenanigans, a nervous Louis and an oblivious Harry are parking in front of the amnesiac’s childhood home.

 

The older boy had opted out of telling his boyfriend about how his Mom was disturbingly aware that they’d had sex not even twelve hours ago, skipping the whole blackmail issue and simply saying that Jay wanted to meet Harry.

 

(He wonders whom he got his dishonest and manipulative genes from!)

 

“How are you so calm? I nearly shat myself when I met Gemma, and she didn’t even birth you!”

 

The answering smile he gets is borderline cocky, an air of confidence surrounding Harry.

 

“Parents loooove me. I’m pretty sure I’ve received more care packages from Maura than Niall has.”

 

Louis snorts loudly, Harry’s statement not sounding nearly as ridiculous as it should, as he’s well aware of how effortlessly charming his boyfriend can be.

 

“Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, my mom is about a million times more sassy and protective than your average mother.”

 

Harry’s confident smile wavers slightly at that, his green eyes a tad more panicky than before.

 

Louis isn’t trying to scare his boyfriend, but he does want him to be mentally prepared for the force of nature that is Jay.

 

Before the taller man has time to start walking backwards, the door opens to reveal a pair of ecstatic twins, Daisy and Phoebe having fallen in love with Harry twenty minutes into their first meeting last week.

 

Jay watches the entire exchange with narrowed eyes, clearly keen on giving Harry a hard time until he’s passed whatever unpleasant test she’s got planned for him.

 

Louis can’t hold it against her though, his mom’s skepticism is due a long string of men who have broken her heart, and she’s dead set on not letting the same happen to her children.

 

He briefly wonders if Louis 2.0 had ever deemed any of his previous relationships worthy of the naturally cringe-worthy “meet the parents” rituals.

 

Harry manages to untangle himself from the set of young Tomlinson limbs around him long enough to extend his large hand towards Jay, a heart-melting, dimple-producing smile overtaking his face.

 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Deakin.” An extra ten brownie points for remembering Jay’s new last name - you go, Glenn Coco, “I’m Harry. Harry Styles.”

 

Jay might still be on the fence about Harry, but she would never purposely disrespect a guest, so she shakes his hand with a small smile and invites him inside.

 

“Mom!” Fizzy’s voice echoes down the hall, “Is Louis here yet? I’m starving!”

 

Louis’ younger sister stops suddenly in her tracks as soon as she sees the green-eyed, curly-haired god standing in the middle of her living room, gawking with a disturbingly similar expression to Louis’ own when he first met his boyfriend.

 

Louis isn’t sure whether to feel proud of himself for snatching up such a gorgeous guy or disturbed that his sister shares his taste in men.

 

He feels her pain though, so instead of the public embarrassment he’s so, so tempted to put her through, he redirects everyone’s attention from his sister’s flaming red cheeks to a more alluring topic – babies.

 

“Mom, where are Ernie and Doris? I’m sure Harry is anxious to see the little monsters. He loves them to pieces.”

 

There’s a real smile tugging at Jay’s lips for the first time since they’ve arrived, an inevitable reaction whenever any of her kids is mentioned.

 

“Dan’s playing with them in the backyard. Doris was a little grumpy after her nap, so he took them both out to watch the birds. You can go out there to get them if you want.”

 

Harry looks absolutely delighted at the mere thought of seeing the babies, nodding his head enthusiastically and looking about ready to start clapping with joy.

 

Louis isn’t about to turn down the opportunity to play with the twins either, so he holds out his hand without even thinking and drags Harry out towards the backdoor.

 

(The backdoor, ay! Been there, done that!)

 

Jay stops him before he can make it to the door though, telling Harry to go right ahead and ask Dan to come in for lunch.

 

Louis isn’t dumb, he knows that whatever conversation his mom wants to have right now is boyfriend related, and Harry’s apparently aware as well, as he squeezes the amnesiac’s hand with a nervous smile before walking out the door.

 

“Does he treat you the way you deserve to be treated, Boobear?”

 

Louis is instantly reminded of the candles and the flowers, and the many occasions Harry could have pressured him into having sex when he wasn’t ready. He’s reminded of the late night heart-to-hearts and early mornings filled with steamy cups of tea and lazy kisses. Of the little post-its Harry always leaves in the oddest places, and the tight hugs that seem to warm him up to his very core.

 

 

“Harry’s everything I could have ever dreamed of, and I feel like a million bucks whenever I’m around him. I wish you would give him a chance to show you how wonderful he is, Mom.”

 

Jay is moved by the sincerity in her son’s voice, and she makes an immediate decision to be a little less cold towards Harry, but still no less protective.

 

Harry carries her youngest son inside at that very moment, simultaneously ending the conversation and solidifying her decision.

 

Ernest is babbling his age-characteristic nonsense, a long string of meaningless sounds leaving his small lips.

 

Harry, however, is avidly listening to the baby’s gibberish, a grin tugging at his lips as he makes little comments like “oh really?” and “wow, Ernie” without ever moving his gaze from the small child in his arms.

 

Jay would have to be either really blind or completely biased to not notice the fondness Harry clearly feels towards both sets of twins, and the love and admiration written all over his face whenever he looks at Louis.

 

What more could a mother ask for?

 

“I’m making meatloaf for lunch, Harry, do you like it? I can always whip something else up if you don’t.”

 

Jay’s attitude is a complete one-eighty from the sour, cold tiger mom she was before her little chat with Louis, and the amnesiac feels incredibly proud that she’s making an effort despite her hesitations.

 

“I love meatloaf, Mrs. Deakin. Thank you for asking.”

 

Louis suppresses the urge to smother his boyfriend with kisses; there’s only so much politeness a man can take before he’s stripping off all his clothes.

 

 

Lunch ends up being a surprisingly enjoyable affair, with Harry interacting with all of Louis’ siblings, and Jay inevitably falling in love with the dorky outsider.

 

(Not before he has answered a long list of questions though, ranging from what he’s planning to do in the future – be an environmental lawyer – down to his entire family history – divorced parents, a lovely stepfather, and a quirky purple-haired sister.)

 

Louis even learns a couple of new things about Harry, like how his parents used to replace his goldfish with a new one whenever it inevitably died without him knowing it, or how his grandparents own a country house in England, where they’re apparently from.

 

Harry seems to fit in seamlessly at the Tomlinson/Deakin home, and Louis feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest with affection for his boy.

 

Seeing his “new” life mix so perfectly with his “old” life is like a breath of fresh air, and, for the first time since he woke up in that dreary hospital bed, Louis feels like he might actually be okay with the possibility of never remembering those five years of his life.

 

It’s amazing how this bambi-looking klutz just waltzed into his life and shone a completely different light upon what would have probably been an atrocious adjusting period, and Louis will be forever grateful for that.

 

 

Harry loads the dishwasher before Jay even has time to stop him, proving once again that he’s the perfect guy to bring home to mommy by simply demanding to see Louis’ childhood bedroom as payment.

 

There’s a nervous fluttering in Louis’ stomach as he guides his boyfriend upstairs, a ridiculous fear that Harry will realize what a loser he really is and dump him.

 

It isn’t easy for the amnesiac to squash down that insecure side of him, especially when it was such a big factor in his life as a sixteen-year-old, and letting this gorgeous, _cool_ boy see his silly bedroom feels like a huge risk right now.

 

(He suddenly regrets buying so many Justin Timberlake posters.)

 

Louis cringes at the “Private property – leave me alone” sticker on the door, walking into his room with his eyes glued to the floor. If he doesn’t see the judgment on Harry’s face, then it’s not there, right?

 

“Oh my God! I used to have this exact same poster when I was younger! I’d jerk off to it, like, every single night!” Harry exclaims, staring at the shirtless Leonardo DiCaprio poster directly above Louis’ bedside table.

 

Louis bursts out laughing immediately, his insecurity dissolving into sheer amusement as he pictures a fourteen-year-old Harry silently masturbating to Leo’s abs, his then tight curls bouncing with the enthusiasm of his hand movements.

 

“So did I!” Louis laughs, “Does this mean we share some sort of penis bond now? Are we connected through our spank bank choices?”

 

Harry’s ridiculous honking laughter could probably be heard all the way down the street, and it causes breathless giggles to fall from Louis’ lips.

 

An embarrassingly loud snort suddenly escapes from Louis’ throat without his permission, sending Harry into another round of cackles.

 

They must look insane, bent over laughing at a stupid poster like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.

 

They tire themselves out eventually, their cackles dissolving into breathless giggles, before the younger man sees something on the amnesiac’s face that makes him inexplicably freeze in his tracks.

 

“What?”

 

“I am so fucking in love with you, Louis Tomlinson, it’s insane…”

 

Harry’s admission is whispered fondly, a shy smile tugging at his lips as he looks at Louis reverently.

 

Louis’ eyes widen comically as he takes in his boyfriend’s confession, the sincerity in Harry’s voice warming him from the inside out, before his lips twist into a toothy grin.

 

“I love you too, Hazza.” The amnesiac whispers, his face so close to Harry’s that he can already feel his boyfriend’s breath on his lips.

 

When their lips finally meet after what felt like an eternity, Louis swears he feels a flux of energy and happiness spreading through his body.

 

Kissing Harry always seems to feel completely new and like a homecoming at the same time somehow, a sense of trust and belonging that never fails to make Louis breathless.

 

Being in love, truthfully, is terrifying.

 

Louis feels like he’s been placing bits and pieces - and giant chunks! - of his heart into Harry’s hands since he first met him.

 

It’s insanely overwhelming and, quite frankly, terrifying to know that the entirety of his happiness depends on someone else’s choices.

 

The only reason why he hasn’t gone completely insane over his lack of control and autonomy is because he can see the exact same lovesick look on Harry’s face, and Louis is certain that he couldn’t have picked a kinder, more caring person to see him at his most vulnerable.

 

*

 

Sex, as it turns out, is the single most addictive thing in the entire world, and Louis can’t think of anything more important than getting his hands on Harry’s pretty pink cock right now.

 

The amnesiac is driving them both back to Harry’s apartment, keeping one hand on the steering wheel as the other is dangerously alternating between the younger man’s upper thigh and his groin.

 

Harry’s done being teased though, grasping Louis’ hardening cock through his jeans and causing a sudden rush of blood to flow through it.

 

Their pupils are dilated, and there’s a constant stream of curses and moans leaving their mouths, but Louis manages to drive them to their destination in one piece somehow, rushing out of the car in a haste to finally get his mouth around Harry’s cock.

 

Even though Harry had sucked him off in the shower this morning, Louis hadn’t had a chance to return the favor, as the younger man had jerked himself off whilst still on his knees.

 

The amnesiac is antsy to feel the weight of Harry’s cock on his tongue, but he’s also quite nervous, mostly because it seems like an impossible feat to swallow down his boyfriend’s entire length without doing something completely mortifying, like having a coughing fit or getting spit all over the both of them.

 

He’s seen an appalling number of confessions online about gagging so hard on dick that they accidently threw up all over their partner’s shoes, and he can’t seem to shake off the fear of vomiting on Harry’s brown boots.

 

As afraid as he might be, he still can’t resist the appeal of driving his boyfriend insane using just his mouth, and he can’t wait to know what kind of tantalizing sounds he can pull out of Harry when he’s fucking Louis’ mouth.

 

Louis makes his request known as soon as the apartment door slams behind them, dropping to his knees in a surprisingly graceful manner and kissing the skin above Harry’s waistband.

 

He undoes the taller man’s fly next, pushing his tight jeans down to his mid-thigh.

 

The bulge pushing against Harry’s white boxer-briefs looks even bigger from up close, making Louis’ hands visibly shake.

 

He calms down as soon as Harry’s eyes find his though, the younger man looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars.

 

Louis pulls Harry’s underwear off, chuckling nervously when his impressive (and, right now, terrifying) length nearly hits him in the face.

 

Louis kisses the head experimentally, trying to get a taste of what’s to come.

 

Harry’s cock tastes slightly musky and quite salty, but, truthfully, Louis loves it.

 

He fights the urge to bury his nose in his boyfriend’s neatly trimmed coarse hair, Harry’s scent so intoxicating and fucking manly, it makes Louis feel like he could literally orgasm just from being down here.

 

The amnesiac opens his mouth wide enough to accommodate the head, sucking on it immediately and causing a loud groan to fall from Harry’s lips.

 

Louis is dizzy with arousal, the taste of desire and pure _man_ making his dick feel like it’s suffocating in the confinement of his tight jeans.

 

 _Please don’t gag. Please don’t gag,_ Louis thinks over and over again as he releases the head from his mouth in order to lick the sides of Harry’s pretty pink cock, a hefty little trick Zayn had taught him a few weeks ago when he’d been freaking out about his lack of blowjob skills.

 

The head pops in easily, still wet with Louis’ spit, and he breathes in deeply through his nose as he slides his mouth downwards, trying to take in as much of Harry’s length as possible.

 

There’s a stream of groans, moans, “fucks”, and “Lou’s” falling from Harry’s open mouth, and Louis swears he can taste victory already.

 

His mental celebration is instantly crushed, as Louis does something so embarrassing, he feels like moving to Antarctica to become a fucking penguin.

 

He doesn’t actually gag or have a coughing fit like a normal person, oh no.

 

The reason why he has to take Harry’s cock completely out of his mouth is because there’s an incredibly high risk of him actually biting it off.

 

Louis sneezes.

 

Out of _all_ the predictable embarrassing things that could have happened to him, he went and fucking _sneezed_ on his lovely, sexy boyfriend’s dick!

 

Twice!

 

There’s a startled silence before Harry starts giggling, his paw of a hand covering his mouth as he attempts, and fails, to conceal his amusement.

 

“Oh, is this how you treat your selfless boyfriend who’s on his knees sucking your dick? By laughing at him? You, sir, are an ungrateful bastard!” Louis says, pressing his lips together to stop himself from giggling as well.

 

“I’m sorry, baby. It wasn’t even the sneezing that set me off - it was your face afterwards. You looked so outraged that your nose had betrayed you like that.”

 

Louis can’t help but laugh after Harry’s explanation, and he instinctively pulls on his boyfriend’s balls to punish him.

 

The moan that escapes from Harry’s throat, however, is very unexpected, and the fact that the younger man actually enjoyed that seems to surprise both of them.

 

Louis goes back to sucking his boyfriend’s cock with renovated vigor, causing Harry to throw his head back so forcefully that it hits the wall with a thud.

 

He doesn’t seem to care though, and neither does Louis.

 

Louis eventually figures out the ideal cock-sucking routine, building a steady rhythm of sucking, licking, and breathing, and he even becomes coordinated enough to use one hand to cover the base of Harry’s cock and the other to play with his balls.

 

He finds himself wishing he had a third hand to touch himself, but, as it is, he has no other solution than to focus solely on Harry’s pleasure.

 

“Oh. Fu-ck. Yeah.” Harry pants, his gaze constantly alternating between Louis’ stretched mouth and his tear-filled eyes.

 

As for Louis, his eyes never leave his boyfriend’s face, elated by every single reaction he gets from the younger man.

 

Louis may be sucking dick, but Harry’s the one who looks positively pornographic, his eyes glassy with pleasure, hair a mess, and lower lip bitten raw.

 

Even in such a carnal, raunchy situation, Harry still manages to be sweet and affectionate, caressing Louis’ cheek with reverence and looking at him like he can’t believe the other boy is real.

 

“Fu-ck, Lou. Gonna come.” Harry warns, giving Louis the chance to pull off.

 

Louis keeps sucking though, simply moving his head back a few inches to make sure he doesn’t choke on Harry’s cum.

 

He’s still caught off guard when the taller man climaxes somehow, the feeling of his boyfriend’s release startling a whine out of Louis.

 

It’s not the first time he’s tasted cum, having tried his own once out of sheer curiosity, so the bitterness and texture of it don’t shock him in the slightest, but the velocity at which it hits his tongue and the back of his mouth certainly does.

 

Louis could swear he can feel the taste of victory as he swallows it all down like a champ, though.

 

“Fuck, you’re amazing. Come here.” Harry begs, pulling Louis upwards by the neck and tasting himself on his boyfriend’s tongue.

 

Louis gets so wrapped up in _HarryHarryHarry_ during their kiss, that he doesn’t even notice his boyfriend’s hand moving until it’s pulling his cock out of his pants.

 

Harry doesn’t even get the chance to return the favor, as Louis comes from two simple strokes, so incredibly turned on and amazed by the taller boy’s reactions that he was on the verge of release without even being touched.

 

They stand like that for a while, panting into the crook of each other’s necks, until Louis finally realizes how gross he is, his dried up release coating his belly.

 

“Right, I need a shower.” Louis grumbles, turning to walk in the direction of the bathroom before Harry’s arm reaches out from behind him and surrounds his waist, pulling him backwards into the taller man’s chest.

 

“I haven’t told you that I love you in, like, an hour, so, I love you, Louis. Now you can go!”

 

Harry kisses the top of his head sweetly, before finally releasing him.

 

Louis heart speeds up at that, still not used to hearing Harry say those three words, but so fucking happy that his feelings are not unrequited.

 

“I love you too, baby.”

 

*

 

The two weeks following the first time they have sex are not spent fucking, much to both boys’ dismay.

 

Finals are way too time consuming and tiring for any kind of shenanigans, so Louis still has a big list of things he wants to try in the bedroom.

 

(The highest up on said list are being rimmed and topping, and Louis can’t wait to try them.)

 

Truthfully, Louis hardly even thinks about sex during these two weeks, too focused on trying to prove that having amnesia and being dumb are two completely different things.

 

One of his professors made a passing comment about how Louis shouldn’t even be allowed to be in college if he doesn’t remember his final year of high school, and the amnesiac will be damned if he doesn’t prove him wrong.

 

*

 

And prove him wrong he does, passing that particular exam with the highest score in the entire class.

 

Louis is walking to Harry’s house now, anxious to see his boyfriend again after what feels like an eternity.

 

Studying together had been very distracting for both boys, a lot more kissing than revising being done, so Louis hasn’t seen Harry in three days, and even then they’d only gone to Chipotle for a quick thirty-minute lunch before burying their heads in their books again.

 

Louis’ excitement is quickly squashed when Harry opens the door, though.

 

Had it not been for the many, many movies they’ve watched together that have made Harry cry, he probably wouldn’t even had noticed something was wrong, as the younger man plasters a fake smile on his face before giving Louis an enthusiastic kiss.

 

His nose is red though, and his whole face is puffy, not to mention how his eyes still look a bit wet, so Louis isn’t being fooled by his shitty performance.

 

“What’s wrong, Haz? Was it your exam? Did it go badly?”

 

Louis starts playing with Harry’s hair, a move that never fails to relax him.

 

Harry is apparently playing difficult tonight, though.

 

“No, my exam went fine. It doesn’t even matter, okay? Everything’s fine. How was _your_ exam?” Harry says, clearly hoping that Louis will drop the subject.

 

“Look, Haz, you don’t have to tell me what made you this unhappy if you’re not comfortable doing so, but please drop the Joker smile and fake cheeriness and let me cuddle you until you’re feeling better.”

 

Harry’s lower lip is visibly wobbling now, making it obvious that the curly-haired boy is on the verge of breaking down in tears again even though he’s trying to hide it.

 

Louis doesn’t get it; his boyfriend is the complete opposite of those macho guys who’d rather die than cry in front of someone else, so why is he trying so hard to keep himself from showing emotion?

 

“It’s stupid, okay? And I’m kind of scared of telling you just in case she’s right.”

 

There are two fat tears rolling down Harry’s cheeks now, but Louis dries them off gently with the sleeve of his sweater, pressing a sweet kiss to his boyfriend’s bent head.

 

He guides him to the couch, doing everything he can think of to make Harry a little less unhappy, like petting his hair and sitting as close to him as humanly possible, only stopping when he has his legs _and_ his arms wrapped around his boyfriend.

 

“Well, it can’t be that stupid if it made you this upset, baby. I’m sure I’ll understand it if you tell me what happened.” Louis is talking in that sweet, syrupy tone that he usually only uses around his sisters, feeling genuinely upset that someone has made his boyfriend cry.

 

Harry looks at Louis quizzically, as if he’s assessing whether or not to tell him what’s bothering him.

 

The younger man takes a deep, steadying breath and drops his gaze to the floor.

 

“You know how my Civil Procedure class is all the way across town? Well, I didn’t feel like taking the car today ‘cause I can never find a fucking parking space, so I took the bus there, right? And on the way back these two girls from my class were sitting three rows behind me, and I guess they didn’t noticed me ‘cause of the ticket machine in between us, so they started gossiping about me. About us.”

 

“They must have known you from, you know, before, or at least they knew your ex-boyfriend. They just kept talking about how awesome this Andrew guy was, and how he was so much better than me. They said all this shit about, like, my looks, and then they spent _ages_ talking about how boring I am and how I must be really good at sucking dick for you to put up with my constant rambling. They think that you’re only with me ‘cause you have amnesia, and that you’re for sure going to dump me and get back together with your ex when you get your memory back. And I just- Fuck! I love you, Lou, and I don’t want to lose you, and now I’m scared that they’re right. I’m terrified that if you ever get your memory back, you’ll realize that you’re so much better than me and that I don’t deserve you.”

 

Harry is positively _sobbing_ by the end of his recounting, and Louis heart breaks into two because some bitches made his sweet, sweet boy this miserable.

 

You’d think it would be nice to discover that your boyfriend is so in love with you that the mere suggestion of a break-up reduces him to tears, but Louis is definitely not chuffed – he’s angry, and sad, and, above all, desperate to reassure him that he’ll stay with him for as long as Harry will have him.

 

He just doesn’t know what to say.

 

People are always so willing to believe every single shitty thing they hear about themselves, but so reluctant to accept a compliment, and Louis isn’t sure how to undo the mess that these two random girls have created.

 

“I hate History” spills from Louis’ mouth involuntarily, the confession so seemingly random and out of place that Harry looks up from the floor with a confused look on his face.

 

“Bear with me, okay. I swore I’d never tell anyone about this, and yet, here we are.” Louis sighs, feeling his cheeks grow warmer, “So, I wake up in a goddamn hospital bed with no clue what has happened in the last five years, right, and when I get to my grown-up apartment, two blocks away from my grown-up school, I see a _huge_ collection of History books and all sorts of presidency related shit in my room. My first instinct was, obviously, that they must belong to someone else, right, ‘cause there’s no way that I would willingly read a book about Theodore fucking Roosevelt, so I asked Zayn what the fuck was the deal with all these boring-ass books. Do you want to know what he told me?”

 

Harry nods hesitantly, still looking visibly confused by the change of subject.

 

“He told me about this boy named Harry, who lived in the dorm room next to mine for a bit, and for whom I’d been pining so _pathetically_ that I’d started reading about what I thought was the most boring subject in the entire world just so I could see him every Wednesday.”

 

“Really?” Harry interrupts, a small smile tugging at his lips already.

 

“Shh, don’t interrupt me, you man-child! Anyway, at the time I was certain that there was no way some dude could have rendered me so stupid that I’d even have joined the History club, of all things, but then I saw you at that coffee shop. It might sound cheesy, but you fucking mesmerized me, Hazza. I was so captivated by your looks and your quirky personality that I actually considered joining that stupid History club again, even though I can’t name more than five Presidents anymore. I’m not with you ‘cause I have fucking amnesia, I’m with you because I literally woke up with no memory of you whatsoever and felt the exact same way as I had the first time around. Those bitches are wrong. Even when I remembered that guy, I was still pining after you, so why would it be any different if I got my memory back?”

 

It’s amazing how easily you can forget about your own embarrassment just to make someone you love feel better, and Louis is pretty damn chuffed to see the huge grin that overtakes Harry’s face, even if it means that he’s set himself up for mockery.

 

“That’s literally the single cutest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, Louis! Do you have any idea how much I love you, baby?”

 

Well, if he hadn’t known before, he certainly knows it now that he’s seen Harry bawling his eyes out because he was scared of losing him.

 

“Oh hush. I love you too. Clearly! I mean, I just told you, like, the most embarrassing story ever.” Louis says, his cheeks warm with shame.

 

“Hey Louis, I’m really glad we got it right this time around.” Harry grins, obviously referring to the second first time they met.

 

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

 

Louis kisses Harry sweetly, trying to completely erase any trace of doubt or self-consciousness from his boyfriend’s mind.

 

He can’t even begin to fathom how anyone could think that he’s better than Harry.

 

The thing about their relationship is that they fit together seamlessly, like it was meant to be, as corny as that may sound.

 

After this whole mess, Louis feels like he needs to worship Harry tonight.

 

He’s desperate to show him all the little things that he loves about his body and his gorgeous face, so he spreads him out on the bed tenderly and takes him with as much reverence and veneration as he can gather.

 

There’s a voice in the back of his head screaming that this is what making love feels like as he kisses the back of Harry’s neck without stopping his thrusting.

 

(As they come down from their high, sweaty and sated, Louis is sure that there isn’t a single universe in which they wouldn’t have found each other.)

 

*

 

Harry flies home for a week during spring break, and Louis misses him even more than he’d ever care to admit.

 

It’s not like he can’t have fun without Harry – he certainly enjoys finding new and improved ways of killing Liam’s character in GTA – it’s just that his bed is colder when he has to sleep alone, and, as creepy as it may sound, he really misses his boyfriend’s smell, that sweet natural scent that is particularly noticeable at the point where Harry’s neck meets his jaw.

 

Instead of moping around, waiting for his boyfriend to come back, Louis actually spends his time wisely, which is very uncharacteristic of him, to be honest.

 

He’s finally learning to accept the fact that there is a high probability that he might never get his memory back. The more time goes by, the lesser the chance of memory restoration, his doctor said, but, truthfully, Louis has certainly been more bitter about his condition than he is right now.

 

He may never remember his first real kiss, or what it felt like to open his college acceptance letter, but he has created some amazing new memories after the accident, which certainly lessens the burn.

 

The day before Harry’s set to return marks a new chapter in his life, and Louis wakes up remarkably cheery considering how early it is.

 

The amnesiac made one of those spur of the moment decisions before falling asleep last night, and, surprisingly, he still thinks it’s a good idea now in the morning.

 

He’s sick and tired of living in a place that feels like it doesn’t really belong to him, as if Louis 2.0 could suddenly return and demand his bedroom back.

 

There are dozens of pictures on the wall featuring people he doesn’t remember, and a wide range of clothes in his closet that he hates, and, frankly, he’s had enough of this bullshit.

 

He’s had this strange notion of who he’s supposed to be in his head since he woke up in that sterile hospital room, as if he was obligated to shape himself back into some sort of Louis 2.0 mold to fit into his old life.

 

He doesn’t want to fit into his life before the accident because, to him, Louis 2.0 is a complete stranger.

 

It’s about damn time that he claims his life as his own, starting with those stupid fucking pictures.

 

It may seem extreme, but Louis decides to take down every single picture he doesn’t remember posing for.

 

He may recognize most of the faces smiling back at him - Zayn, Liam, his family, and even some old friends that he’s been reacquainted with - but he doesn’t remember any of those moments, or what he was feeling when the photo was taken, so they have to go.

 

Louis replaces the old photos with new ones, still frames of moments that he actually remembers, like that one time when Zayn, Liam, Harry, Niall, and Louis went to a karaoke bar and did a surprisingly good rendition of “Torn”, or the photo booth where he and his boyfriend spent a ridiculous amount of money taking dozens of photos, ranging from cute to silly, and even including more than a few kissing pictures.

 

He even makes a mental note to have an impromptu photo-shoot with his siblings next time he goes home for dinner.

 

Louis puts all of his History books in a box for Harry to sort through and decide which ones he wants to keep for himself. He’s sure that his boyfriend will put them to a much better use than gathering dust.

 

He then changes the background of his computer to a cute photo his mom had taken of him holding Ernie next, replacing the rad skateboarding trick photo Louis 2.0 had set up.

 

His last task is to sort through his clothes and shoes, and decide which ones he wants to keep and what he wants to donate to charity.

 

The amnesiac is still experimenting with his style though, so he ends up keeping his discarded clothes just in case he changes his mind.

 

All in all, Louis ends up with a huge pile of crap that he has no idea where to store.

 

Liam comes to his rescue though, as per usual, telling him that there’s a small storage place in the garage that belongs to their apartment.

 

His unexpected organization streak is still alive and well when he gets to the garage apparently, as he decides to sort through the boxes labeled as his instead of just piling the new stuff on top of the old.

 

He finds a bunch of knick-knacks, evidence that Louis 2.0 was just as much of a hoarder as his previous version, but the only thing that truly catches the amnesiac’s eye is the big cardboard box labeled “shit from plays”.

 

Louis yelps as soon as he opens the box, the two items sitting on top causing a blush to spread over his cheeks.

 

It’s one thing to be told that he played Dr. Frank-N-Furter, but he had never expected to actually _see_ the corset and lacy panties with his own eyes.

 

Louis closes the box again and carries it upstairs, weirdly excited about trying his old, uh, _costume_ on.

 

He goes all out, turning on his iPod dock and opening his _Rocky Horror_ playlist.

 

He puts the panties on first, tucking his hardening cock under the silk.

 

They’re less revealing than the lingerie you would buy at the mall, obviously designed to preserve his modesty on stage, but there’s something so deliciously elicit about wearing a silky, lacy pair of panties that Louis can’t help how turned on he feels right now.

 

He ignores his growing length in favor of putting on the flimsy pair of high socks he finds under the corset, attaching them to the panties in no time.

 

The last item of his “costume” is the black corset, and Louis really struggles to put it on.

 

He finally manages to close it four songs into the playlist, and he’s walking towards the mirror when his bedroom door is opened, revealing a bug-eyed Harry with his mouth hanging wide open.

 

“Fuck, this is really not what it looks like.” Louis says, scrambling to find a sweater long enough to conceal his silk covered dick.

 

“I was just trying on my Dr. Frank-N-Furter costume from the play last year. I didn’t, like, get a job as a drag queen or something, I swear. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a drag queen, of course!” Louis explains, hoping to break the weird mood that has settled between him and Harry, but the other man is apparently refusing to cooperate, as he remains completely silent.

 

Louis’ cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he risks a glance at Harry’s face to find the exact same expression as when he’d opened the door still present there.

 

The younger man’s eyes are darker now though, with his pupils blown wide, and Louis sneaks a look down at his boyfriend’s crotch to confirm his suspicions.

 

Harry’s tight black jeans are tented filthily at the front, his hardened cock nearly burning a hole through the fabric.

 

(Louis didn’t even think it was physically possible to get properly hard this fast.)

 

“You’re into this.” Louis says, stupidly stating the obvious, “You’re into me in lingerie.”

 

As soon as he says that last word, a pitiful whine falls from Harry’s lips, and the younger man blushes even harder at his apparently involuntary reaction.

 

His eyes haven’t left Louis’ now covered crotch for a single second though, looking like he’s in a trance of sorts.

 

A car honks outside, and, just like that, the spell is broken.

 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I just- I missed you, so I flew back early, and Liam opened the door for me, and, uh. I didn’t know you were, uh- I’m sorry. I’m such a creep. Shit.” Harry stammers, clearly trying to turn his body in a way that conceals his state of arousal.

 

“Stop apologizing you idiot, and come fuck me into the goddamn mattress.” Louis says, taking off his sweater to reveal his lingerie-clad body again.

 

Harry is like a deer in headlights, clearly surprised that Louis is just as into the whole lingerie thing as he is.

 

He snaps out of it quickly though, taking two long strides to glue his body against Louis’ own.

 

Louis can’t even remember who initiated the kiss, all he knows is that Harry is suddenly kissing him roughly, putting so much passion and desire into the kiss, Louis could literally die of arousal.

 

Harry’s being much rougher than he’s ever been before, literally lifting Louis from the floor and forcing him to wrap his legs around his waist.

 

They’ve ended up against the wall somehow, the support on Louis’ back making it much easier for them to rut against each other.

 

Harry slips his hands inside Louis’ panties suddenly, grabbing both cheeks roughly before dragging his right middle finger down his boyfriend’s crack to circle at his dry rim.

 

Louis feels like he’s on fire, every touch and kiss and moan driving him right to the edge of insanity.

 

Harry’s almost aggressive in the way that he’s touching Louis, but the smaller man loves it, surprisingly.

 

The taller man kisses his way down the amnesiac’s jaw, sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck and earning himself a loud moan.

 

“Fu-ck. Haz. Please…”

 

Louis doesn’t even know what he’s begging for - all he knows is that he’ll go crazy if Harry doesn’t stop teasing him this very moment.

 

“Is this okay?” Harry asks after taking a deep breath and, apparently, gathering the self-control he’d been lacking before.

 

Louis nods quickly - okay doesn’t even begin to describe how much he’s enjoying this rough and desperate side of Harry.

 

“I want to try something new, okay? But you have to tell me if you want me to stop, baby.” Harry is looking at him intently, obviously waiting for Louis’ consent before doing whatever it is he’s planning to do.

 

“Okay, okay. Just do something. Please. Before I, like, die of frustration or something.”

 

The challenging tone in Louis’ voice is enough to bring that previous determination back into Harry’s eyes.

 

“Go to the bed. I want to see you on your hands and knees, baby.”

 

Harry’s command isn’t bossy or degrading, but authoritative, and so fucking hot Louis would drop to his knees in no time if that didn’t mean that he’d be disobeying his boyfriend’s request.

 

The amnesiac has never been in this position before, and he feels exposed in the best way possible, like he’s showing off his body for Harry to admire and worship.

 

Louis exaggerates the curvature of his back tantalizingly, a desperate move to get Harry’s cock inside him faster.

 

He looks back at Harry to find out what’s taking him so long, practically salivating as he watches him strip his last piece of clothing to reveal his already dripping cock.

 

There’s a purposeful look on Harry’s face as he settles behind Louis, running his hand down his back and all the way to his ass.

 

Harry bites Louis’ right cheek teasingly, and the smaller man’s cock spurts a drop of pre-cum as he realizes where this is going. He sure is glad that he’d taken a quick shower before going to the garage.

 

A high-pitched whine escapes from Louis’ throat when Harry takes his panties off without any warning, and then an even louder one when his cheeks are spread to expose his tight, pink hole.

 

Louis falls down to his forearms when he feels his boyfriend’s breath on his hole, feeling so incredibly desperate already, even if Harry has hardly even touched him yet.

 

Harry leaves wet kisses all over Louis’ cheeks before finally licking around his rim.

 

A single lick is enough for Louis to decide that this is the absolute best thing he’s ever done in his entire life, the feeling of Harry’s tongue around his hole so unfamiliar, but so, so pleasurable.

 

The taller man’s apparently done teasing both Louis and himself, as he licks a broad stripe from his boyfriend’s balls all the way up to his crack.

 

He builds a rhythm in no time, alternating between broad licks that make Louis wonderfully wet, and smaller, more precise licks that drive him to the verge of insanity.

 

There’s a buzzing noise in Louis’ head, and he’s not even aware of the sounds he’s making, honest to God sobs leaving his throat.

 

He tries to touch himself, but Harry slaps his hand away without even pausing his ministrations.

 

Louis’ back bends obscenely when Harry’s pointed tongue finally presses into him, and he drops his head onto his pillow as he squirms with pleasure.

 

Louis is holding onto to that goddamn pillow for dear life, not even sure whether he wants to come right now or if he wants this moment to last forever.

 

Harry’s middle finger suddenly presses into him together with his tongue, finding his prostate immediately and causing Louis to squirm helplessly as a new wave of exquisite pleasure takes his breath away.

 

Another three or four hard strokes to his prostate are enough to push Louis over the edge completely untouched, his orgasm so fucking intense that his whole body shakes with it.

 

As soon as he comes down back from whatever planet Harry had managed to send him to, he turns his head to look at his boyfriend, furrowing his brow in confusion when he sees the open bottle of lube in his hand.

 

“Can I?” Harry pants, and Louis notices with a wince just how painfully red his boyfriend’s cock is.

 

Louis is giving Harry his consent before he even knows what he’s agreeing to, willing to give him anything he wants right now.

 

He gets momentarily scared when Harry pulls his hips upwards to expose his hole again though, too over-sensitive and not prepped enough to be fucked.

 

Harry doesn’t actually fuck him though, putting his length in between Louis’ cheeks instead and thrusting upwards immediately after.

 

It doesn’t take long before Louis feels Harry’s warm release hit the upper part of his ass and his lower back, the younger man groaning his name loudly and babbling about how amazing he is.

 

 

Later, after they’ve showered and changed the sheets, Louis is on the verge of falling asleep when he hears Harry’s voice.

 

“You should come with me next time I fly home; I promised my mom that I’d bring you. Plus, I really want you to see the place where I grew up and show you off to all my high school friends.” Harry’s voice is soft and sweet, and Louis falls more and more in love with him with every second that ticks by.

 

“Sure, Hazza, I’d really like that.” Louis replies sleepily, kissing Harry’s nose tenderly before resting his head on his boyfriend’s bare chest again.

 

“Sweet dreams, Lou. I love you.”

 

Louis makes a few sounds that Harry interprets as “I love you, too”, before finally falling asleep to the sound of the steady thuds of his boyfriend’s heart.

 

*

 

“Hurry up, Louis! Gemma just texted me saying that they’re at the KeyArena already.” Harry yells from the bathroom, having decided that it was probably a good idea to pee before leaving the house as to avoid embarrassing himself by being in the restroom when they call him up to the stage.

 

“Do you have any idea how much effort has to go into trying to look good in this horrendous outfit? A fuck ton, that’s how much!” Louis complains, still trying to fix the only parts of his hair that are actually visible.

 

Harry rolls his eyes fondly, washing his hands before walking back to their bedroom to find Louis still standing in front of the mirror.

 

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that I’m literally wearing the exact same thing as you. Besides, you always look gorgeous and you know it.”

 

Louis finally stops messing with his hair, crossing his arms as he looks at Harry with a raised eyebrow, “Stop trying to butter me up, Harold. I still haven’t forgotten that you gave me a love bite obvious enough for both Gemma _and_ Anne to notice, you minx. You’re lucky it’s not really visible anymore, otherwise you would have been in big trouble.”

 

Harry chuckles, “Well, that’s not what you were saying when I gave it to you. _Mark me, Harry. I want everybody to know how much I enjoy being fucked._ ”

Louis yelps indignantly, “I sound nothing like that, you fucker. Plus, I seriously doubt that I said- Oh my fucking God, we’re so fucking late!”

It’s 9:06 a.m., which means that they’re supposed to be at the KeyArena already instead of bickering over the love bite that they both know Louis asked for.

 

 

The drive to the arena is entirely too stressful, with every fucking light turning red right before they reached it, but they somehow manage to arrive just in time to meet up with their moms before taking their assigned seats.

 

Anne and Jay had both insisted on seeing their babies before the ceremony, and Louis can’t help but get a bit teary-eyed when he sees the two women eagerly talking to each other right in front of the commemoration sign.

 

He’s done it.

 

Louis fucking Tomlinson has graduated college!

 

It may seem unimportant in the grand scheme of the world, but he can hardly believe that after all that blood, sweat, and tears, he’s finally managed to finish his degree.

 

Louis can still remember the bitterness and envy he had felt in this exact same place two years ago when Liam and Zayn graduated, an unintentional emotional response to only being halfway through all the classes he’d been forced to retake due to his memory loss.

 

He got over it soon enough, and was even happy and supportive when they’d first suggested moving out so that they could be closer to their brand new jobs.

 

It was perfect timing too; their tiny, cramped apartment had felt even more cramped whenever Harry slept over - which was more often than not - but Louis loved his home too much to move out or even sleep elsewhere.

 

Harry had immediately agreed to move into Louis’ place, and they’d become disgustingly domestic since then.

 

In a lucky twist of fate, Louis and Harry had ended up in the same graduating class, and knowing that he’s finally getting his diploma at the same time as the love of his life makes it all seem sweeter and, quite frankly, a bit like fate.

 

Enough time has gone by for Louis to realize and accept that the likelihood of getting his forgotten memories back is close to none, and that will never not be sad, but, whenever he looks at Harry, he knows that he’s gained something far more precious than what he’s lost.

 


End file.
